Netherworld
by Wildcard
Summary: The Smog & the Sphere both change people for the worse. Rocket's losing it and Sinedd's not that sane either. Sinedd x Rocket, Tia x Rocket. Contains slash, het, humor, dub-con, dark themes and Rocket's psychological deterioration during Season 2.
1. The Sphere & The Start

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Galactik Football, I'm making no profit off this story and I don't claim that the events represented in this story are canon at all. (But wouldn't it be fun if they were?)

**Summary:** The Smog changes people for the worse. Netherball changes people for the worse. What happens when you put two unstable boys in close proximity? Sinedd x Rocket, Tia x Rocket, D'Jok x Mei, past Aarch x Artegor referenced. Micro-Ice x Yuki, possibly. Definite slash warning, anyway! Darkish.

_Netherworld_

Still floating on the high of having defeated Kernor, Rocket stepped out of the Sphere to the adulation of his new-found fans. He raised his arms high in the air and savored the sound of them yelling his name. It felt like Galactik Football but better. This was all for them. Their screaming, their clapping, their praise – it was all for him. _Him_. Not his teammates. Not Aarch's coaching. Rocket had earned all of this on his own.

He'd been the only one in the Sphere. He'd won on his own.

This victory was his in a way that none of the matches with the Snow Kids had been.

In that instant, standing under the lights and seeing the rows of people that surrounded him, eyes skimming over their faces but taking nothing in except how wide their mouths opened as they cheered for him, Rocket knew that he'd never go back to Galactik Football. What the League thought didn't matter. Even if they reinstated him, he wouldn't play on the Snow Kids again.

He'd already forgotten what the Breath felt like. He didn't miss it.

Playing in the Sphere didn't need teamwork. He didn't get dragged down by other people's mistakes, or have to pass them the ball only to see them miss easy shots.

In the Sphere, he was all on his own. He'd grown up on his own, and now he was playing on his own again.

This was just the way that Rocket liked it.

Here, he could see everyone. All their faces. All their pride. The Galactik Football stadiums were too big. All the on-lookers blurred into a mass of color. He couldn't tell Wamba from Ryker from Shadow.

Here he could see everyone individually. And all of them, every single one of them, could see him.

Rocket threw his head back and basked in their adoration; the crowd roared.

Only Sinedd, leaning against the console, didn't cheer for Rocket. Hip canted, he kept a hand on top of the console, casually supporting his weight as he watched the ex-Captain of the Snow Kids soak in the mob's mad love. His other hand was plunged deep in his pocket as he watched Rocket sink further into righteous bliss, the triumph of his victory in the Sphere making Rocket almost unrecognizable to Sinedd. Harris had told him to get good players into the Sphere. He'd promised Sinedd a bonus for every player he brought in. And Sinedd, orphan, raised alone, was always on the lookout for ways to make a little extra cash. If his career in the Shadows ended soon (but it wouldn't, he was a good striker, much better than D'Jok!), Sinedd wasn't planning on going back to playing cards for pocket change and winning magnet board races.

Bringing Rocket in would earn him a hefty bonus, Sinedd was sure. Especially since Rocket had won, which meant he'd be in the next night as well.

Sinedd didn't know what the Sphere was truly about; he felt no guilt at having taken Rocket down when the Snow Kids had already thrown Rocket away. He was just taking their leavings; Artegor had poached Sinedd and Sinedd had seen nothing wrong with that either.

Slowly, the furor of the crowd died down and the spectators started to make their way out. They were still talking about the match they had seen and the likelihood of Rocket winning again tomorrow. Rocket stayed in front of the Sphere, watching them file out. Glory filled his eyes, and with his hair bound back from his face, the stark lines of his face had never been clearer.

He looked like a young god, handsome and strong.

And alone.

Finally, it was only Sinedd and Rocket left alone.

"Good match," Sinedd said, and the words were somewhere between admiring and envious.

"Thanks." Rocket answered simply, hands in his pockets, amber eyes still aglow. Before Sinedd could brush it off as nothing, Rocket continued, "Thanks for showing this to me."

Rocket's eyes were still so bright; Sinedd remembered vaguely that once, his own eyes had been blue and bright. A long time ago. "Told you you'd be good."

"Yeah." The grin on Rocket's face was too arrogant for a Snow Kid to wear; it looked like it'd belong on Sinedd but never D'Jok. "I am."

Rocket scuffed a foot against the rocky ground, and it's nothing like a Galactik Football pitch. He could already feel where he'll have bruises tomorrow from the Sphere, but the thought made him smirk. Marks of war were fine by him. No more Dame Simbai to fuss over them, or Tia to –

Tia.

The name made a pang go through his heart. Even now, he couldn't regret having saved her. Especially now that it had led to him being introduced to Netherball. But Rocket couldn't picture Tia down here, where it was dark and enclosed and the crowd cheered for fouls. She was too pure. White hair and gold skin and eyes like spring leaves; she didn't belong to the world of Netherball. Rocket could barely hold the image of her in his mind as long as he stood in front of the sphere and still felt his veins flush with adrenaline from defeating Kernor.

He shook his thoughts of her out of his head and asked Sinedd, "What's a cheap place to stay 'round here?"

"…You can crash with me." There was a moment of hesitation before Sinedd offered that, but after all, where else could Rocket go? Netherball didn't pay creds to the winners. Rocket had no sponsorship deals like Mei did. He might have enough creds for a ticket home to Akillian, but that didn't translate to enough for a hotel room for more than a couple of nights. He wasn't sure that Harris would be willing to pay for a hotel room for Rocket either, and Sinedd wasn't about to volunteer his own earnings.

"Why?" Again, Rocket was suspicious, just as he had been when Sinedd had offered him the chance to play Netherball. But that had gone well, hadn't it?

"You have to play again tomorrow. Which means you're going to have to be well-rested and well-fed to match whoever else shows up." Sinedd pointed out. Normally, everyone could just stay with their respective teams. This was the first time that Sinedd had to figure out where to lodge someone. "And I've got a double-room to myself in the hotel."

"Won't your coach or teammates notice?" Rocket had to admit, the idea had merits. Nobody would look for him in the Shadows hotel. And the media tended to stay away from the Shadows, who were notoriously unfriendly and disliked photographs. He could hide out there, and still be in shape for the next Sphere match.

Sinedd shook his head, the forelock of black hair brushing over his eyes for a moment as he did so. Impatiently, he reached up to push it back, "Artegor never comes into our rooms as long as we show up for practice. And the other Shadows are used to me never being in my room, so they don't go looking for me there. As long as you're out when the maids come around to clean the room, nobody'll know."

Rocket thought it over for a moment more. His parents might worry, but his father had all but disowned him when he left to play Galactik Football, and his mother had disappeared for years. And if he called them to tell them what was happening, he'd have to explain about getting suspended. Aarch could do that.

"Let's go." Rocket finally said. He picked up the duffle bag near the console that he'd originally packed to take to the Akillian. Sinedd shut down the console with a final touch to the keys, and the lights went off.

In absolute darkness, Sinedd leading and Rocket following, the two of them left.

They'd be back the next night.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Author's Note**: So, what did you think? Review, please! *hopeful look* Are the chars OOC? Do you like or dislike anything so far? If I'd realized that GF had a big enough fandom to write for, I would've been posting stories here a long time ago. (Probably about Sinedd or Rocket or Tia, let's be fair). XD


	2. Roommates Again

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Galactik Football, I'm making no profit off this story and I don't claim that the events represented in this story are canon. It's just my look at what could have been happening off-screen when Rocket was playing Netherball.

**Summary:** The Smog changes people for the worse. Netherball changes people for the worse. What happens when you put two unstable boys in close proximity? Sinedd x Rocket, Tia x Rocket, D'Jok x Mei, past Aarch x Artegor referenced. Micro-Ice x Yuki, possibly. Definite slash warning, anyway! Darkish.

_Netherworld_

"This is it?" Rocket had never seen such an empty room. True, it was a hotel room, but still, everyone in the Snow Kids had decorated their room as soon as they'd moved in.

D'Jok put up a poster of Warren, then a poster of himself over it. Rocket had photos of his parents and of Tia on the bedside table. Mei had posters of herself from various commercials, and one of herself with D'Jok. Ahito and Thran had family photos everywhere, most of which featured Ahito and his father both being asleep at the time the photo was taken. Tia had photos of herself with Rocket and a poster of the entire team. Micro-Ice had team photos everywhere.

Sinedd's room had nothing. It didn't even have clothes anywhere. It looked as pristine as if Sinedd had just checked in.

A defensive shrug, and Sinedd shot back, "What, it's not good for you? Galactik Football Cup Champions get better suites?"

"No, it's fine." Rocket didn't care about how palatial the room was or wasn't. It was a good room anyway. Spacious. "It's just so … plain."

"There's a TV there." Sinedd pointed to it as he gave Rocket an odd look, "And computer over there."

Was he going to be expected to entertain Rocket now? One of the reasons that he'd offered to share a room with Rocket was that when he'd been with the Snow Kids, he'd managed to share a room with Rocket and do a minimum of talking. Both of them had been loners, so they'd gotten on fine in silence.

"Yeah, I know, I just--" Rocket shook his head, deciding it'd do no good to pry. "Never mind."

Sinedd's blood was up now, though, temper manifesting itself as it always did when he thought someone else was acting as if they were superior to him, "What, Rocket? If this isn't good enough for you, you can go sleep in the Sphere, or go crawling back to the--"

"I meant, there are no posters here. Or photos." Rocket interrupted Sinedd before Sinedd said something that'd make Rocket want to leave. From observing his interaction with D'Jok and Micro-Ice, Rocket knew that Sinedd had a knack for getting under people's skin.

"Oh." Sinedd visibly deflated, the tantrum he'd been working himself into shunted aside. Looking around the room, he had to admit that the hotel décor had been left alone. Heavy black curtains to block out the sun (apparently they didn't realize that he hadn't mutated as much as the rest of the players and didn't mind sunshine), white carpet, white walls, white ceiling, two double beds that the maids had made up while he was gone. And all his clothing was still inside a suitcase.

He shrugged, "I'm out practicing most of the day. Or down at the Sphere. No need to fancy this up when I'm never here."

Rocket nodded in response to that, taking it as a fair explanation. He didn't feel any need to put out his photos of the team or Tia either. Or his parents. Having them lie around would just make him feel even more of a disgrace for having gotten himself suspended from the Cup (but he still didn't regret anything, it was worth it to have saved Tia).

"You want anything to eat?" Sinedd asked, sitting down on the bed closest to the door to make it clear to Rocket which bed was his and which Rocket could take.

Rocket dumped his duffle bag on the other bed, near the window, and started to pull his clothes out, "You're going to order room service?"

"Can't take you down to the restaurant, can I?" The familiar note of mockery was back in Sinedd's voice, but it seemed less personal than with D'Jok or Micro-Ice. He did, after all, truly think that Rocket was the best player on the Snow Kids. "And if you order anything, they'll notice it's not me. So if you want anything, tell me and I'll order it. The League's paying for all our hotel expenses anyway. Room service included."

Rocket's grin was savage at that. The League was paying for everything? Fine. He'd be petty for a moment and order all the most expensive dishes he could. There'd be enough food that he could pack some up and take it with him tomorrow morning while Sinedd practiced and the maids cleaned the room. _And_ it'd make him feel a little better to at least have that much of revenge on the League for suspending him.

"I want whatever the most expensive dishes are. Six of them." Rocket looked at the wardrobe, then thought better of it. If Sinedd hadn't unpacked, he shouldn't either. Else the maids would notice that there was suddenly clothing where there hadn't been.

Sinedd's smirk was like a curl of smoke, but sharp, vaguely vicious but contained within the pale curve of his mouth, "Revenge is a dish best served by room service?"

Rocket said nothing in response to that; the hard lines of his mouth did all the talking for him. Sinedd lifted up the phone and repeated Rocket's order to room service, not bothering to look through a menu to find what the most expensive dishes actually were.

That was why, when the food finally arrived and was set out on the table, Rocket found himself staring at six plates of what he would've never considered as food if it hadn't been sent up by room service.

One pile was blue, steaming hot, and looked vaguely like mashed up potatoes, if a key ingredient in mashed potatoes was _glitter_.

The next plate had chips of metal on it. At least, it looked like metal, felt like metal, and when Rocket gingerly tapped it with a fork, the sound that rang was like that of metal on metal.

The third pile, Rocket thought, looked as if the footballs of all the different teams had been shrunk down, multiplied, and then covered in a sauce made of all the different Fluxes. Creative, but not exactly appetizing.

The fourth plate was either a live rodent trapped under a glass box, or – there was no or. Rocket was convinced that it was a mouse.

The fifth plate had chunks of what could be raw meat. If meat bled green and was supposed to have mushrooms growing on it.

The sixth plate contained a soup made of wires floating in an oil-like substance. Rocket wasn't even going to touch it.

As he stood there, staring at the 'meals', Sinedd came up over his shoulder and laughed, "You gonna eat that, Rocket, or stare at it and wait for it to turn into something you can actually digest?"

Instead of answering the clearly rhetorical question, Rocket poked the lumps of could-be meat with a fork, quickly withdrawing it when the meat actually moved. "Have you ever seen any of these before?"

Maybe they were just the food of other planets. Like the Wambas. Rocket still remembered how strange that had looked at first.

"That's the flesh of a Mrikat beast." Sinedd pointed at the apparently-still-living meat. "That white stuff is actually the babies inside their shells. When they break free, they eat their way out."

Rocket was not going to touch that dish now. Definitely not.

"It's a Shadows delicacy." Sinedd's smirk was more than a little wicked as he picked up a knife and stabbed it into one of the white mushroom-like sacs, cutting it open to reveal the squirming white grub inside. "They only breed once a year."

"Don't eat it!" If Sinedd actually ate that thing, Rocket vowed he'd find a new place to sleep. He wasn't going to be woken up by Sinedd screaming as Mrikats ate their way out of him. He needed his sleep to be a Netherball champion.

"Do I _look_ stupid to you?" Savagely, Sinedd stabbed the grub with the knife, just before it managed to rear up and latch into his fingers.

Micro-Ice or D'Jok would've never let that opportunity to insult Sinedd pass. Rocket was more diplomatic than that.

"What about that?" He pointed at what he really hoped was not a mouse.

Cue Sinedd giving him an odd look, eyebrows arched, "That's a mouse, Rocket."

"I was hoping you wouldn't say that." Rocket cringed, watching the mouse sit on its haunches and twitch its nose at them. "Why did they send me a mouse?"

"Delicacy for the Xenons. Don't touch it; its bite is poisonous to anyone that's not a Xenon." Sinedd poked the glass box with a fork, sending the mouse jumping back. "Reptiles eat insects and little mammals. Like this. Or Micro-Ice."

He grinned, waiting for Rocket to rise to the bait and defend Micro-Ice as not being that short.

Instead, Rocket shrugged it off. He wasn't in the mood for a fight. The food was fascinating him (and though he wouldn't admit it, it was a good distraction from thinking about the League and his suspension). "Insult him to his face, Sinedd. You can't see his reaction if you waste those lines on me."

Two meals identified. Four left to go. "The metal – that's for the Rykers?"

Sinedd nodded confirmation, gesturing at the sixth plate with a fork. "Yeah. And the soup's for Technoid 'bots."

The mention of the Technoid team made Rocket's stomach turn for a brief moment. The All-Stars were going to play against Technoid. He should've been an All-Star! He should've played in that match!

But the Sphere was better. He clung to that thought, dark glee rising in him at the thought of Kernor's expression when the ball had shot past her for that final shot. For a moment, his tongue darted past his lips, as if he could taste her defeat in his mouth, and Rocket heard the crowd cheer for him once more.

"Rocket?" Sinedd wasn't _worried_, exactly. It was just that Rocket had picked up a knife and was now holding it so tightly that his knuckles were starting to turn white. Not a reassuring sight. "You gonna eat the mouse or the Mrikat babies?"

Coming back to himself, Sinedd's wry joke snapping him out of his reverie, Rocket shook his head and looked down at the plates. He put the knife down without thinking about it, then nodded at the glittery blue mush. "What's that?"

Sinedd's smirk grew wide enough that if it weren't for the malice that honed its edges knife-sharp, it could almost be called a smile. "That's for the Lightnings. Very rare and effective mood boosting dessert."

"…" Rocket stared at it for a few moments, then at Sinedd. "But it _glitters_."

"Yeah." Sinedd agreed, and for a moment, his smirk looked more like a grin, wicked but amused instead of mocking. "I know. Think D'Jok knows his hero eats glitter?"

Rocket's laugh was short, but it was genuine. It was the first time he'd laughed since he'd heard the League's sentence. He hadn't expected it to be Sinedd, of all people, that'd make him laugh. Then again, it was Sinedd that had introduced him to the Sphere. And offered him a place to stay. Those hadn't been things he'd expected either, when he'd been about to return to Akillian with his tail between his legs.

"What about those?" To recover from his momentary fit of thoughtfulness, Rocket pointed at the little footballs. The only team left that he could think of were the Cyclops and the Wambas, but he'd eaten Wambasian food. And he couldn't see how this could count as the sort of brain food that'd help the Cyclops team.

"I don't know." Sinedd admitted, using his fork to prod them. "They look like some sort of Galactik Football special dish."

Grabbing a spoon as he put the fork down, Sinedd picked out a tiny Shadows ball. It was smaller than the top joint of his little finger, but perfectly detailed, sauce sticky and raspberry-black around it. "Made for midgets."

"Next Cup match, we'll face players so small that we can't see them until they block us." Rocket agreed, refusing to fish out a Snow Kids football. Aarch had made it clear that he wasn't wanted on the team. He picked out a Lightning's ball instead, squeezing it between his fingers. The texture was firm, a little like cake, but more squishy. Jam-filled cake, perhaps.

He looked up to see if Sinedd had eaten his football yet, only to see that Sinedd was watching him to see if he was about to eat it.

Rocket bounced the little football on the back of his hand instead of eating it, and Sinedd followed suit. Soon, a silent but serious competition had ensued about who could keep the ball on their hand the longest.

Rocket was winning when Sinedd got sick of it and used his thumb to flick his ball into Rocket's, making both of them hit Rocket's shirt.

"Hey! That's cheating!" Rocket protested, wiping them off with a disgusted curl to his lip.

"There are no rules in the Sphere." Sinedd intoned, smirking again at his victory.

"We're not _in _the Sphere." Rocket lunged into Sinedd's personal space and wiped his hand against Sinedd's shirt as revenge, getting him dirty too.

"Hey!" Outraged – he'd won! Even if by cheating! – Sinedd grabbed a handful of the little footballs and threw them at Rocket so that they stuck on his face, his clothes and even his hair. Rocket retaliated by slamming his hand on the side of the plate of blue mush so that the contents launched themselves at Sinedd's face.

Sinedd ducked, only to be tackled by Rocket who had a fistful of little footballs and was intent on getting them into Sinedd's hair as well. The two of them struggled on the floor, Sinedd trying to keep Rocket's hands away from his hair, Rocket trying to push the footballs into Sinedd – and then they rolled into a leg of the table and knocked it down on top of them.

There was a loud crash, a sensation of brief but intense pain accompanied by disorientation, and then Sinedd and Rocket had to flail their way out of a tablecloth, covered in food, and push the table off themselves.

"Are any of the bugs on me?!" Sinedd asked Rocket frantically as soon as they were free. He'd seen what the Mrikat babies could do. He wasn't about to get eaten by them. He looked himself up and down, trying to make sure that none of them were hidden inside the mess of food that was splattered all over him.

Rocket wiped a hand over his face, trying to get rid of the Technoid oil that had gone straight for his hair. "No--" He couldn't quite see properly, but another wipe to his eyes with a clean corner of the tablecloth took care of that. "No."

"Good." Sinedd turned around, and looked Rocket over, then grabbed him by the shoulder to turn him and check his back. There weren't any Mrikat babies on Rocket either, but Sinedd pinched him anyway. "Got one."

"Thanks." It might've occurred to Rocket to doubt that statement but just then, a banging came at the door, followed by the sound of Artegor yelling, "SINEDD! WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THERE?! IS AARCH KIDNAPPING YOU?"

Sinedd froze for a moment, then shoved Rocket in the direction of the beds, "Quick! Under the bed!"

Dropping to his hands and knees, Rocket wriggled under the bed, sticky clothes adhering to him uncomfortably as he did so and leaving a very obvious trail that led to the bed he hid under. Sinedd bolted for the door and opened it, hair matted with blue wet glitter and face decorated with tiny footballs like strange pimples. Despite that, he still tried to act innocent, "Nothing happened! I just had a nightmare."

Artegor stared at his star striker, some of the strength of his glare lost thanks to the thickness of his sunglasses. "And that left you covered in food?"

"I left some food by the bed in case I got hungry in the night. Then I fell out of bed. Then I tried to stand up and crashed into the table." The fact that Sinedd could say all of that with a straight face was a testament to how much practice he'd had lying.

Artegor peered at Sinedd suspiciously behind the sunglasses for a few moments, but when Sinedd didn't show any sign of breaking, he seemed to accept it. "Very well. But be on the lookout. Aarch'll do anything to see us defeated! And take you back."

"Yes, sir." Sinedd answered, closing the door in Artegor's face. He waited until the sound of footsteps died away, then beckoned for Rocket to come out from under the bed.

Rocket's expression was frankly incredulous, even as he tried to use a napkin to soak up the oil from his hair, "He thinks Aarch'll try to kidnap _you_?"

The disbelief in his voice was hardly flattering.

"The man wears sunglasses in the middle of the night." Sinedd pointed out, "He's not exactly sane."

Rocket had to admit that Sinedd had a point, even if he wasn't sure that Sinedd should be talking about his coach like that. "You said he never came up here."

"Well, I'd never overtoppled a table before! So I guess he never comes up here unless property destruction is involved." Sinedd shot back, scratching at his cheeks to peel off the little footballs.

Then he froze and looked around, "Wait. Where'd the mouse go?"

Rocket couldn't see it either.

And he remembered Sinedd saying that its bite was poisonous to all non-Xenons.

Clearly, neither of them were going to get much sleep tonight.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Author's Note**: Tada, second chapter done! And almost three times the length of the first, thanks to all your encouraging reviews. I really wasn't sure if anyone would be interested in a fic like this, so it's nice to know there is an audience for it! This fic has a little more humor in it than the last chapter, to balance out how dark it'll get and also because I wanted to show Rocket and Sinedd as people, interacting, and how they might get along at least a little since they're both loners and football-obsessed. Now for reader responses!

Thilda: I've been waiting ages too! I even requested this scenario for Yuletide, then gave up and decided that if I wanted it written, I'd have to write it myself. Don't worry about the darkness – I mean, in canon, Rocket goes insane and starts hallucinating, and breaks Sinedd's ankle! That's great material to work with if you're a fanfic author who likes writing dark stuff.

GFSista: Nice name! OOC = Out of Character. As in, the chars are doing things that seem unbelievable based off how they act in the show. I need to be careful with that, because I'm setting this during episodes that have already aired, so I can't even claim character development or that they've gotten older or anything as an excuse if they start acting OOC.

Mitsuko Soma: Awww, thanks for the compliment on my style! I try to draw the reader as far into the story as possible. Keep reviewing, and I'll definitely keep writing. ^_~

Nina: Sinedd x Rocket rocks! But Rocket x Tia is definitely canon and definitely cool, so I have no intention of bashing that or downplaying the fact that Tia is the one to save Rocket when Sinedd's dragged him down. I plan on writing about what's happening to Rocket and Sinedd when they're not on-screen during Season Two, and how the Sphere gradually warps Rocket, and how the Smog has already been doing a number on Sinedd. And how it gets even worse once Sinedd doesn't even have the Smog.

Don't worry, I'm definitely not going to fast-forward their relationship or rush them into anything! Tell me if you think that I'm pushing them too fast, but honestly, they're both loner-like characters and dealing with their own problems, so I can't see them just falling into bed together. I'm not a fan of suddenly-in-love fics so this won't be heading in that direction.

Delialah. R: Oops, maybe I should've been more clear! I totally agree with you that Sinedd's played in the Sphere before and knows how to work it. What I meant was that Sinedd doesn't know the Sphere is being used to collect _Flux_. After what happened in Season One with him being used by Bleylock, there's no way that he'd agree to work with Bleylock again or have anything to do with his schemes. So Sinedd's just being used by Harris and Bleylock, which is why I said that Sinedd doesn't really know what the Sphere's about, since he doesn't know it's being used to collect Flux, and that's its real purpose. I hope that explanation helped! And don't worry about speculating in the reviews, I love reading other people's opinions.

Thanks tons to EVERYONE for the feedback.


	3. Torn Loyalties: Shadows vs Snow Kids

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Galactik Football, I'm making no profit off this story and I don't claim that the events represented in this story are canon. It's just my look at what could have been happening off-screen when Rocket was playing Netherball.

**Summary:** The Smog changes people for the worse. Netherball changes people for the worse. What happens when you put two unstable boys in close proximity? Sinedd x Rocket, Tia x Rocket, D'Jok x Mei, past Aarch x Artegor referenced. Micro-Ice x Yuki, possibly. Definite slash warning, anyway! Darkish.

_Netherworld_

Overall, their first night together could've gone much, much worse. Sinedd had ordered two meals from room service for them that they could actually eat and Rocket had showered while waiting for it to arrive so that he'd be in the bathroom and not seen by any of the maids. Sinedd had convinced them to clean up the table and the mess in the room after they dropped off the food, then taken a shower while Rocket started to eat. Rocket left enough for Sinedd, and started to hunt for the mouse.

The mouse was never found. Neither of them slept very well that night but – as Rocket pointed out when Sinedd complained in the morning – the mouse also hadn't bitten either of them. Sinedd left housekeeping a note to deal with it.

After Sinedd muttered something under his breath that Rocket decided he'd better not ask Sinedd to clarify, the two of them were silent for a while.

"Hey." Sinedd finally broke the silence. "You know who we're playing today?"

Surprised, Rocket glanced up from where he'd been sorting through his Galactik Football cards. "There's no official match on today."

Sinedd nodded, the corners of his mouth twisted strangely. Something like apprehension was in his eyes, but it was hard to tell at the angle that Sinedd was bent at as he went through his morning stretches. "Yeah. I know. It's supposed to be a _friendly_."

His words dripped with disdain. Sinedd couldn't have said more clearly that he didn't believe in the concept of a 'friendly' if he had 'I hate people' tattooed on his forehead. Football wasn't a game played for the fun of it. It was played for the fun of winning.

"This close to the finals?" Rocket couldn't believe that any team would risk injury by playing unnecessary matches against the Shadows. Their fouls were practically a strategy, though still not as bad as the one that Tia had suffered during their first match on the Wamba planet. The thought of Tia collapsing on the pitch still made Rocket's stomach twist around itself, even though it had happened so long ago. It was something of a miracle that the Shadows hadn't killed anyone yet.

"Yeah." Sinedd stretched his leg out to the side, then bent towards it from the waist, hands together and fingers stretching to his toes. It looked for a moment as if he was going to wait for Rocket to ask whom the Shadows were playing against, but instead, as he straightened up, he volunteered, "Guess Aarch wants to make sure his new team members'll get some practice playing as a team with the rest."

Rocket had known, on some level, that he would have had to have been replaced. The team couldn't continue in the finals if they were missing a player. Aarch had probably chosen Mark, the same way he'd wanted to when Micro-Ice had disappeared.

It still stung to hear that Aarch had managed to replace him so quickly. And line up a match.

Though a match against the _Shadows_?

Rocket looked at Sinedd, who had a foot pressed to his chest and his knee to the ground, bending his spine over it. Sinedd wouldn't go easy on them. Any of them. Not the new team members and definitely not on D'Jok. Never on D'Jok.

What was Aarch thinking?!

Rocket knew then that he'd have to watch the match somehow. He might not be able to stay in the room during the day while the maids hunted for the mouse, but there were TV screens all over Genesis for outdoor crowds to enjoy the match. He'd wear his new clothes, keep his hair pulled back, and watch the Shadows play his former team.

Aarch might've as good as kicked him out and the Snow Kids might not be his team anymore, but Tia was still on it. His friends were still on it. He had to watch the match, even if he wasn't going to ever play with them again.

It only then occurred to Rocket that Sinedd had done him a favour by mentioning it. He could've easily just skipped over it and left Rocket to find out about it afterwards, or from someone else. "Thanks for telling me."

"Whatever." Sinedd rolled his shoulders backwards, then lay on the ground so that he could start some one-handed push-ups. Eyes on the carpet instead of trying to look at Rocket, he offered, "I can get you into the stadium if you want. We get tickets to give out to family members and…"

His voice trailed off there. Sinedd didn't have any family. He didn't feel the need to have to state it outright. The fact that he was an orphan wasn't anyone's business. Least of all Aarch's nephew and the ex-Snow Kids captain. He hated taking pity from anyone, and certainly wasn't going to take it from Rocket.

He usually sold off his ticket. Extra cash never hurt. Being raised in an orphanage meant that Sinedd understood very well the value of having a fallback plan and what money meant. This time, however, he could give Rocket one of his tickets and only sell the rest.

He told himself it was only because he needed to be on Rocket's good side so that Rocket would keep playing in the Sphere. He didn't want to think that maybe _he_ pitied Rocket. Rocket had a father, an uncle, and a mother. And he had been the team captain. And had a girlfriend he loved more than his career.

If anything, Sinedd should've been jealous of him. Should've, but wasn't, because Rocket had lost everything and was reduced to staying in someone else's hotel room and not sleeping in case he got bitten by a poisonous mouse during the night. His career might be over.

And of everyone on the team, Rocket was the only one that Sinedd had any respect for as a player. Galactik Football, as a sport, would suffer from the loss of Rocket.

Sinedd couldn't be the best unless he played against the best. Defeating mediocre players like Micro-Ice counted for nothing.

The offer of the tickets had surprised Rocket. Kindness from Sinedd? It'd mean sitting in the Shadows side of the stadium, but Rocket also knew that the only way for him to see the match – or any match in the future – would be to use Sinedd's tickets. The matches were sold out for months or maybe even years ahead of time! Even if this friendly match had only been planned recently, it was probably sold out already.

It still left the question of why Sinedd was offering him the ticket, but Rocket knew that if he didn't accept it, Sinedd was unlikely to do anything like that again. Sinedd was too proud and far too stubborn. If Rocket turned him down now, Sinedd would never offer him anything again in case it got rejected.

And it was something that Rocket wanted anyway. Somewhat awkwardly, bundling his hair behind him, Rocket replied, "Yeah. Sure. Thanks."

That was twice in a row he had to thank Sinedd. It was disturbingly easy to get used to it.

Sinedd switched hands, and jerked his head in the direction of his blue jacket. "Left pocket. There'll be three tickets there. Take any one you want."

Getting up, Rocket went over to the jacket and pulled out one of the tickets. It was for the middle section, right behind the goal of the Shadows team. Perfect for watching the action on the Shadows side of the pitch, not so good if you wanted to watch the Snow Kids or the midfielders. Like Tia. But it meant that the Snow Kids definitely wouldn't spot Rocket in the stands, anyway.

He wondered for a moment if he should offer to pay for it, but he knew he couldn't at the moment. He had funds in his account, but if he accessed those, his parents might be able to use his bank account to track his movements and figure out that Rocket hadn't left Genesis. Besides, who knew how much Sinedd was charging for them? Short-notice tickets in the Shadows section of the stadium would be prized highly, and therefore, Sinedd could easily price-gouge the fans.

Better to just accept them as a gift, Rocket decided, and slipped the ticket into a pocket. "When's the match?"

"Three hours from now." Sinedd finished his morning exercises and got up, hands in his pocket. "The Shadows are meeting in half an hour to get ready for the match. Artegor wants to have a pep talk," Cue a roll of his eyes, "To make sure we get how important it is that we crush the Snow Kids into little particles of ice and humiliate Aarch for his arrogance and treachery and cowardice--" Sinedd stopped and admitted as he went over to pull on his jacket, "I stop listening by that point and go over plays in my head."

With a snicker, Rocket opened the door, "And I thought that Aarch's speeches were bad."

"Unless he calls the coach of your rival team a fat fluffy sea lion, he's got nothing on Artegor." Sinedd went through the door first, locking it as soon as Rocket got through. The two of them split up then, heading to take opposite exits to the lobby so that nobody would see them together. That way, even if Rocket was caught in the hotel, nobody would think that it was Sinedd's fault.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Snow Kids-Shadows match was the first one that Rocket had actually sat in a stadium for. Every match before that, while he'd been on the Snow Kids, he'd watched on a screen, usually with his team in the common room. Before that, he'd watched them on the TV while he worked in the flower shop.

It was different in the stadium. There was a crowd around him. Not just Shadows, but all sorts of football fans – there was a Ryker immediately to his left, and to his right, a Cyclops sat. Rocket was much smaller than one of them, and much taller than the other. The incongruity of it might've amused him at some other time, but for now, Rocket only had eyes for the pitch.

The Snow Kids came onto the field, and Rocket suddenly only had eyes for Tia. Under the artificial lights of the stadium, her pale hair gleamed like the snow on Akillian's slopes. She looked up, and the camera zoomed in on her face, giving Rocket a perfect view of those soft turquoise eyes, the same hue as the ocean had supposedly been before it froze.

For a moment, Rocket longed for nothing more than to be on the pitch with her, then D'Jok stepped close to her and all that Rocket could see was the red band on D'Jok's arm that marked him as the captain.

Tia was forgotten entirely. Rocket couldn't think of her or even see her. His entire world was made of the red of the captain's armband that had formerly been his. Everything boiled down to that alone, and Rocket had never been more aware of his body, his blood. Blood-red captain's band, and his blood revolted against him. His body didn't want to stay still. It wanted to take D'Jok and drag him into the Sphere, to prove that he was the best. That he was the captain. His body wanted to take D'Jok into the Sphere and _hurt_ him.

In his seat, Rocket shook, arms about himself to keep himself still. He bit down hard on his lower lip, fighting to stay still. It felt as if he couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe without thinking of the Breath.

_Tia…._ The thought of her calmed him slowly, and he tried to watch her on the pitch. She made his heartbeat slow; but every time the camera swung to D'Jok, Rocket felt that unfamiliar, terrifying rage surge within him again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

On the pitch, Sinedd was having his own problems. The team should've been a pushover without Rocket! But the two new players were throwing him off. Yuki was an unfamiliar goalie, if too insecure to be any good yet, and Mark was a good midfielder. Mark and Tia didn't have the instinctive cooperation that Rocket and Tia did, but Mark was good.

And D'Jok, of all people, had managed to block one of Sinedd's attempts to score!

"Sinedd, I thought you wanted to win this match!" Artegor snapped at Sinedd over the team comm link.

Hearing Artegor's voice did nothing to improve Sinedd's mood as he protested weakly, "I do."

"Then you'd better start playing like it. I'm counting on you to win this match." Artegor's tone was authoritative. He'd stolen Sinedd from the Snow Kids because he knew Sinedd had talent. More talent than any of the actual Shadows, and if taking Sinedd from the Snow Kids meant that he had taken something from Aarch ... That was an additional bonus.

Sinedd looked at the clock, jogging into place again, "We've still got time."

He wasn't going to lose to the Snow Kids again! Especially with Rocket out of the team and D'Jok the captain.

Anger spurred him on, and Sinedd played like a demon for the rest of the match. He ran, he jumped and he used the Smog recklessly. He didn't care how much it might tire him out after the match was over. For now, he needed to win. He'd give anything to win.

Just like D'Jok, who was rapidly tiring out.

Within the last few minutes of the match, Sinedd scored a goal that went right through the new goalie's hands. It tied the match for them.

Not a victory, but neither a loss. A draw. Sinedd's lips curled back from his teeth in a harsh, soundless snarl. A draw was like eating cardboard; tasteless if technically filling.

"Well done, Sinedd. Glad to see you can still score." Artegor complimented Sinedd after his little fit of gloating was done.

Unimpressed, Sinedd shot back, "We would've won if I had more time."

As he started to walk off the pitch, he passed by the exhausted D'Jok. At least being able to mock him was something. Looking down on the exhausted worn out Snow Kid, Sinedd sneered, "Nice hustle, D'Jok. I was hoping you'd fall over from exhaustion. Better luck next time, I guess – when it counts."

He forced a laugh for the sake of appearances, feeling nothing but annoyance that the game had been a tie instead of a clear victory for the Shadows, and went straight to the locker room with the rest of his team.

His mind was already on the upcoming meeting with Harris.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Rocket returned to the hotel room only to find that Sinedd wasn't back yet. He expected that Artegor would've kept Sinedd and the other Shadows back for some sort of team speech, but it had been two hours already. Sinedd surely should've been back.

Fortunately for Rocket, Sinedd had gotten him an extra key by telling the receptionist that he had lost his own. It meant that Rocket could start up the TV on his own and rewatch the highlights of the match, cut properly from the best angles instead of only seeing it on the large screens and in front of him.

Watching games live really wasn't all it was cracked up to be, Rocket decided. He hadn't seen anywhere near as much of Tia as he wanted to. Rewatching the game would let him see more of his girlfriend, Rocket hoped, but after half an hour of watching the game, Rocket threw the remote down on the bed with irritation. He couldn't concentrate on the match. He kept seeing D'Jok and having everything turn red.

Where was Sinedd?!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sinedd was just as bored as Rocket was, waiting in a coffeeshop for a man who seemed to have no intention of showing up. He stirred the cup of hot chocolate he'd ordered, spoon clinking against the china sporadically, and checked his watch again. Harris was either very late, or not going to show up.

Finally, giving up on him, Sinedd got up to leave, vexed that his time had been wasted so. Features set in a scowl, hands stuffed into his pockets, he left a tip for the waitress and started to head for the door, only to have his arm grabbed by Harris. "Let's go for a walk."

"I thought you said to meet here." Sinedd answered, frustrated that Harris thought that he could saunter in so late and still jerk Sinedd around. Typical adult. Everyone tried to tell him what to do if they were older than him. The fact that he'd played a match today and still had the aftereffects of the Smog roiling through him in a low-key rasp against his lungs didn't help his mood.

"I changed my mind." Harris didn't want to stay in any one place too long. If there were any eavesdropping devices that had been planted at the table, walking would get them the two away from them. And anyone following them would be easier to spot in a crowd than if they just sat down at a nearby table and listened in.

For security's sake, Harris didn't say anything until they were up on a bridge, high above the passing crowds below and leaning enough over it that their words fell down instead of being wafted back to the people walking behind him. Mindful of Sinedd's ego and need for praise, Harris couched his directives in the most flattering terms possible. "I wanted you to know how impressed we were. Rocket is something else. His Netherball playing is…inspired. We'd like you to keep Rocket in the Sphere as long as possible. Our benefactor will be pleased."

The hint of a reward should do much to keep Sinedd on their side, Harris was sure. Even though Sinedd's expression was openly doubtful.

Sinedd wasn't going to ruin Netherball. Netherball meant freedom. No coaches, no League, no rules. No fixes, either. He wasn't going to cheat to keep Rocket in. But he knew that coming off so determined would make him seem uncooperative. He didn't want that. Instead, he half-whined, half-explained, "Harris, I don't know if I can do that. Rocket is like everyone else. He stays in if he keeps winning. If he doesn't, he just you know –"

"We expect him to keep winning." Harris interrupted him smoothly. "That means you're not to play against him. Is that understood?" He didn't pause for Sinedd to answer; the question was rhetorical and more of a threat than anything else. "Your job is to keep things running smoothly. As we say at Technoid, we're making life better."

Surreptitiously, money changed hands, slid into Sinedd's pockets as the two males stood close together. Harris took a step back from the railing, and tossed over his shoulder as he left, "So long, Sinedd."

The fact that Harris _wanted_ Rocket to win so badly made Sinedd want Rocket out of the Sphere. How dare Harris forbid Sinedd to play in the Sphere? As much as Sinedd liked working the cameras and setting up the obstacles for the course, Sinedd liked the Sphere itself. He wouldn't stay out of it because Harris told him to. But he wasn't going to tell that to Harris' face either, not as long as Harris was the one paying him.

But he would challenge Rocket in the Sphere. Eventually.

The Smog curled through his body like cold blood, and when Sinedd breathed in, it tasted not like victory, but like the defeat of others.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Author's Note**: Aww! Halfway through writing this chapter, I suddenly realized that the friendly Shadows-Snow Kids match happens BEFORE Rocket faces Kernor in the Sphere. So I realized I had to either rewrite the entire chapter or hope that you guys would either not notice or would be understanding of the fact that sometimes, I can't fact-check everything. I opted for leaving the chapter as it is, since I really liked how it had turned out so far, and decided that Rocket watching the match from the Shadows side of the pitch was too good a mental image to miss. I promise I'll stick to canon from now on! Just pretend that Rocket's first Netherball match happened the night before the Shadows-Snow Kids match. XD

Also, time is WEIRD anywhere in the eps. I honestly can't tell how long travel between planets takes and if time is passing for Rocket at the same speed as it is for the Snow Kids when they're on Akillian, or if time zones are exaggerated by the distance.

On the plus side, this chapter **is three times as long** as the first chapter was. If you like it, review, please! Feedback is the best inspiration. XD

GFSista: No worries about answering your question. And thanks for the speedy review! I grinned when I saw the first review alert pop up for this chapter. And Rocket and Sinedd are totally loners. That's why it's taking so long for them to even get used to each other, let alone have anything more happen.

Biank-the-raven: Is this soon enough? ^_~ I don't update on the weekends, because I like to watch GF as I write so that I can incorporate dialogue and fact-check my scenes, which means using my home computer is out. But apart from weekends, I'll probably update every two or there days.

Mitsuko Soma: Yay! Another review from you AND a muffin! XD Rocket and Sinedd are slowly bonding, I think. With both of them being loners, I can't really rush a friendship. That'd be OOC. And since I'm trying to keep as close to canon as I can, their bond is definitely going to be destructive. To each other, anyway. That's probably when I'll have to kick this story's rating up to M.

Neo-Nix: I'm glad you like it enough to leave me a review and reassure me that they're still in character! This chapter has a bit more of Artegor in it, since it overlaps heavily with some of the Galactik Football episodes. I'm trying to show what could've been happening with Rocket and Sinedd when they weren't on-screen, and also to write some of the eps from their perspectives. I'm actually surprised nobody's written any Artegor/Aarch fics here yet!

Dwiza: Hi back at you! And yes, I know, I think this might be the first multi-chapter fic that's so tightly focused on character development and works in canon instead of making up something new. Well, unless you count the idea of Rocket staying with Sinedd. That's new. And awesome for having amused you! I think this chapter was less funny, because I had to jump back to following the eps, but I try to throw in bits of humor when I can. And LOL to you saying the Shadows could've beaten the Pirates without Sinedd. I totally agree. Artegor's insane but yes, I played up his obsession with Aarch a little for laughs, but at the same time, he does brag about having taken Aarch's best player from him in Season 1. I think Sinedd knows all the foods because he tried doing the exact same thing at some point, hoping to try expensive dishes he never got to taste before and then finding out he can't eat any of them. And Sinedd, while he might be more vicious, is definitely thinner than Rocket and also shorter, so I think that Rocket would have the strength advantage in a wrestling match. Though since Sinedd fights dirty, he might kick Rocket somewhere you shouldn't kick guys. Thanks for your long, detailed review, it really made me grin and inspired me to start writing this third chapter!

Thanks tons to EVERYONE for the feedback.


	4. The Descent: Rocket vs Woowamboo

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Galactik Football, I'm making no profit off this story and I don't claim that the events represented in this story are canon. It's just my look at what could have been happening off-screen when Rocket was playing Netherball.

**Summary:** The Sphere's changed Rocket, but Sinedd's the only one around to notice it. Rocket plays Woowamboo in the Sphere and makes Sinedd an offer he can't refuse, which doesn't make Harris _or_ Bleylock happy. Slight hints of Sinedd x Rocket pre-slash in this chapter and a bit of violence.

_Netherworld: The Descent_

"Where were you?" Rocket demanded harshly as soon as Sinedd entered the room.

Startled, Sinedd looked at him, having been deep in his own thoughts and unaware of the still figure sitting on top of the bed closest to the door. Seeing it was Rocket, he recovered quickly. "None of your business."

He tugged his jacket off, "Why're you sitting there?"

"That stupid mouse's still on the loose." Rocket said, resentment clear in his tone. Seeing that Sinedd was about to change, he jumped off the bed and sped over to the other boy, grabbing his wrist, "Don't."

"What? I'm not allowed to change now? In case you've forgotten, this is _my _room. You're just a guest here." Sinedd tried to yank his arm away, but Rocket was stronger than him. If he kicked Rocket, Rocket might have to let go, but then it could turn into a real fight. Neither of the boys were in a good mood; Rocket, because he'd been cooped up waiting for Sinedd and Sinedd because of Harris' proclamation.

"I know that." The words were growled out lowly, Rocket's temper rising from having had to watch his former team playing Sinedd's and then having nothing to do afterwards except dwell on it. "But I want to go to the Sphere. And it won't let me in without you at the controls."

Sinedd was the only one who knew how to work the controls. It gave him a certain level of power and ensured that nobody would be playing matches except at midnight against the current captain. Sinedd wasn't about to give up his power anytime soon by sharing the secrets of how to operate the Sphere with anyone else.

"Fine." Sinedd gave his arm a shake, indicating that Rocket should let go of it. He wasn't going to ask Rocket to let go. That'd be an acknowledgment that he couldn't simply make Rocket do it, and Sinedd refused to look so weak.

For a moment, Rocket's fingers tightened their grasp on Sinedd's wrist. The fingerless gloves had left the pads of his wiry fingers roughened, the contrast between them and his palm striking. His eyes were dark, the usually lion-yellow hue of the iris looking more like tarnished gold, and as Rocket _squeezed_, Sinedd could've sworn that Rocket's pupils dilated as if with pleasure.

The grinding of Sinedd's bones together was audible as a disquieting rasp; Sinedd gritted his teeth and refused to so much as whine. Tone uneven, he managed to force out the command, "Let. GO."

Rocket stared into Sinedd's eyes. Sinedd's own pupils were dilated, but from pain, not pleasure. The liquid blackness of them reminded Rocket of Kernor, and how she had hung her head in defeat, going spineless, when he'd beaten her in the Sphere and blown his dust in her face. Kernor, kneeling, the proud goalie brought to her knees and broken…

Rocket's heartbeat thudded to the same rhythm as the crowd's screams and it wasn't Sinedd he saw but rather, Kernor.

Then Sinedd spoke and broke the illusion.

"Sure." Rocket said, and his throat was clogged with something that made his tone thicken. He practically threw Sinedd's arm away, the motion as rough as the one with which he'd grabbed Sinedd, and turned to the door. Over his shoulder, he tossed, "All you had to do was _ask_."

Part of him wondered why it had felt so good to humiliate Kernor (to hurt Sinedd). The larger part of him was occupied with thoughts of the Sphere and how much better _that_ would feel.

No part of him thought of Tia.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sinedd rubbed his wrist gingerly, taking a break from monitoring the Sphere. Where Rocket had grabbed him, the muscles still hurt. The rising redness around the skin, like a bracelet made of finger imprints, would become a bruise, Sinedd knew.

It was hardly the first time that someone had pushed him around. Only way to keep yourself safe in the orphanage was to make everyone else too scared of you to mess with you.

Sinedd had been good at that. Scrawny, but tall, and more importantly, clever in a sly sort of way. He was quick with his hands, and more than once had resorted to planting false evidence to get a bully in trouble. He didn't have any problem taking what wasn't his either, if he needed it.

And now, all his talents were being poured into Galactik Football and the Sphere. Galactik Football was where his genuine talent for sports shone; there was a reason he'd been chosen for the All Stars. The Sphere was where he could play as violently as he liked and enjoy, second-hand, the violence of others. If Galactik Football had a problem, in Sinedd's eyes, it was that nobody ever truly played their best. They all held back and paid lip service to sportsmanship instead.

Idiots.

Sinedd's lip curled back as his hands flew over the controls, changing the settings for Rocket once again. Rocket might've hurt him, but at least Rocket wasn't weak. At least Rocket went after what he wanted.

Sinedd understood the language of violence far too well. Whereas another boy might've reconsidered rooming with Rocket after being hurt by him, Sinedd simply made a note of the fact that Rocket was willing to use violence to get his way, and relied on the fact that he could fight well enough to defend himself if things came to that.

Besides, he was in too deep now. If he kicked Rocket out and Rocket tattled about Netherball and where he'd been staying, Sinedd'd be in more trouble than Rocket as the instigator. And that'd put an end to all his pretty paychecks from Harris.

"Can I go in?" A voice asked in the cant of the Wambasians.

For the second time in an hour, Sinedd was taken back by the unexpected presence of someone else. He twisted around to look over his shoulders, hands not leaving the controls.

Woowamboo. He recognized the other player instantly. "You going to challenge Rocket tonight?"

"Ya." Woowamboo confirmed with a nod of his grey-hued head.

Sinedd's smile was colorless as he hit the keys to let Woowamboo enter. "Go ahead."

Woowamboo caught the ball as soon as he hit the center; Rocket turned slowly and saw his opponent.

A grin, and Woowamboo bragged, "I hope you're ready for a _real_ match."

In response, Rocket only smiled.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Midnight.

Match time.

Sinedd tapped the keys quickly, and flashed the thumbs up signal for the robot to start its introduction.

Sinedd paid it no heed, nor Rocket's showy entrance. Woowamboo's glare at Rocket, however, made Sinedd smile for just a moment before the two players entered the Sphere.

"So, Rocket, you're da big man now. Think you can stay da big man?" Woowamboo's lilted challenge was broadcast to all the spectators, voice clear in the pause before the match began.

"We'll see," Rocket said, the neutrality of his voice at odds with the fierce, surging excitement he felt at knowing another match was about to start.

"Yes. We'll see soon." The two were almost the same height, Woowamboo barely sorter than Rocket. His webbed feet and greater ability gave him an edge over Rocket's strength; the first goal went to him soon enough.

At that, Sinedd's spirits lifted. If Rocket got kicked out of the Sphere, then he could play Rocket on his own without getting into trouble with Harris.

Sinedd's grin turned vicious as Woowamboo pointed both his index fingers at Rocket, clearly mocking him. Yes. Sinedd leaned forwards, closer to the screen, and his wrist throbbed with eagerness to see Rocket brought down.

As Woowambo strutted away, Rocket took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Time to beat this guy."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sinedd wasn't the only one watching the match. Harris was too, though he failed to see why it was important, and said as much to Bleylock.

"You're not watching the right match." Bleylock said. "Let me assist you."

A touch to the keys, and suddenly, Rocket was surrounded in a flare of blue and Woowamboo in twists of orange.

Flux. Unmistakable.

Captivated by it, Harris barely listened to Bleylock's plans – until he saw Rocket's face twist with a triumph that seemed inhuman. "But the process… must weaken them. We're extracting their Flux."

He wasn't speaking simply of the physical level.

Bleylock didn't realize that.

More fool him, Harris thought, and gazed with covetous eyes at the Flux that was being harvested. Someone like Bleylock didn't _deserve_ to have so much power.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"You look a little scared. Are you okay?" The words were mocking, and Rocket might've as well have been speaking to Sinedd as Woowambo. Shoving Woowamboo back had been deeply satisfying; Kernor had shoved Rocket in the same way, and Rocket still remembered the slam of pain that had struck his back when he'd fallen against the Sphere's floor.

All signs of good humor were gone from Woowamboo's long face. "You will be leaving the Sphere, not me."

Rocket shook his head from side to side, and smiled again in the same way that he had when Woowamboo had challenged him during practice. "You're wrong."

The next goal was Rocket's, tying their scores. Everyone cheered — except Sinedd, who folded his arms over his chest and watched, waiting for Rocket to win again.

But when Rocket did win, it was because he'd used Sinedd's trademark trip-kick from behind, a low slide that came in and struck the opponent's ankle to make them fall.

Sinedd curled his fingers into his own arms, anger a bitter taste at the back of his mouth, like bile. That was his move! That should've been his victory.

Everyone screamed for Rocket, but neither Sinedd or Rocket cared. Even looming over Woowamboo and watching him groan brought Rocket no pleasure. It didn't feel like enough. He'd beaten him but it wasn't enough.

He wanted it to be Sinedd who was lying there.

The thought flashed across Rocket's mind, and he knew it for the truth.

"Sinedd!" He called out, looking up to see where the cameras were that would allow him to look directly at the controller. "You and me. Next time."

No response. The flare of impatient rage within him was by now familiar. "Can you hear me?"

Outside the Sphere, Sinedd smirked and leaned in towards the mike set into the control panel. How convenient. He hadn't challenged Rocket. Rocket had challenged him. Harris couldn't object to that, right?

"Yeah." He was smiling now, anticipation sharpening his eyes, "I hear you."

Ignoring Woowamboo, Rocket strode out of the Sphere. His attention was already on tomorrow's match.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Make sure that doesn't happen, Harris. I don't want Sinedd in the Sphere. He's not to play Rocket." General Bleylock said, displeased with the challenge that Rocket had issued and Sinedd's acceptance. Sinedd was a good player too, but Rocket was the one who currently had more aggression. The issues with the League must be weighing on him heavily indeed if he was so angry every time he played in the Sphere.

Diplomatically, Harris refrained from pointing out that he'd already told Sinedd not to play Rocket. Instead, he answered, "As you wish, General Bleylock."

"We must keep Rocket in there as long as possible. He's a very good source of power." General Bleylock looked out the window, striking a military pose with his hands behind his back, and Harris barely managed to stifle a sigh. Did Bleylock take him for an idiot who needed everything explained twice?

Still, if Bleylock was underestimating him, it'd all prove to be to Harris' ultimate benefit…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

That night, the room was completely silent as the two boys lay in their beds, not speaking to each other. The All Star Match was tomorrow; so was Sinedd's match against Rocket.

The latter was what both of them were thinking about.

Sinedd knew the All Star match was what the public would see. It would be a turning point in his career, a public display of his skills measured against the cream of the other teams. It was what he should be focusing on.

But his match against Rocket dominated his thoughts. In the bed right next to him lay his opponent. Sinedd could hear him breathing. Sinedd could hear the sheets rub against each other as Rocket turned over. Rocket was _right there_, and so Sinedd could only think of him and how sweet it would be to beat Rocket tomorrow.

Rocket's thoughts ran along similar lines. The jingling tone of the peddler selling rocks from the Shadows Archipelago hadn't left his mind since he'd encountered the man that afternoon. It was driving him slowly insane, Rocket was sure. But it'd stop when he beat Sinedd (up). He turned restlessly over in his bed, facing Sinedd. There he was. Sinedd was right there.

Rocket would beat him tomorrow and return to this room and Sinedd would be the victory that Rocket took home with him. It wouldn't be like the other matches, where once he'd left the Sphere, he'd left his opponent behind.

Sinedd would come with him; Sinedd would be a living trophy, a walking symbol of Rocket's victory.

Rocket smiled to himself, and his teeth were very white against the Smog-like darkness.

**Author's Note**: Describing the Netherball matches is a bit difficult because I don't want to bore people, but I do want to show how Rocket's sanity is destroyed even further as the matches continue. How do you guys think I'm doing with that? Also, I'm now going to be doing chapter summaries at the top of each chapter instead of leaving the general story summary to make it easier for you to know what to expect.

Turkmen: Thanks tons for the detailed reviews, dude! I watch the episodes as I write, and rewind a lot so that I can make sure to get the dialogue and speech patterns right. As for Sinedd and Rocket, I'm pleasantly surprised by how much people seem to not mind that I'm not just having them jump into bed together. Rocket's pretty hard in love with Tia, so to keep it IC, they've got to progress_ really _slowly. There's a little more of Harris' pov in this chapter so I hope you enjoyed that! Aarch and D'Jok'll probably pop up in the next chapter; since I'm writing about Rocket and Sinedd mostly, the other chars only appear when they're connected to them directly, which is why I left out Tia's talk with Mei, even though that was a really sweet scene in the ep.

GFSistah: Whoo hoo for absolution from canon-tampering! This ep stuck totally to canon. Well. The parts of it that HAPPENED in canon, anyway. Also, question for you! What does "saukerl" mean? You had Rocket call Sinedd that in your fic but didn't explain why

Gerald the Witcher: I am grinning so much at your praise. Thanks for complimenting my Sinedd. I really don't want to fall into making him emo though I do want to show how his past influenced who he is, and there's no way that I can write him as a complete bastard when I don't believe he's one. Rocket definitely does think about Tia a lot, though not in this chapter because he's Sphere-crazy here, but yeah, the slash will happen eventually. There are hints of it already in the story, and definitely in this chapter, if you read it with an open mind and don't expect mushy fluffy slash. I won't give away any details about who'll make the first move, but I will agree with you that Sinedd's not really a people person. And that Rocket is. *grins* Some of the dialogue comes directly from the show, but only the parts where I'm writing what actually happened in the show. The rest is 100% original, so thanks for the compliment on that too! Nice to know someone else is thinking about what the end of the story is most likely going to be, and hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as the last three.

Mitsuo Soma: M rated indeed, once the time comes. There's a wee bit of violence in this chapter, as Rocket's starting to realize that he _likes_ hurting and humiliating people. And Sinedd, of course, is too cocky to realize what's happening and run for the hills like any sane person would do. I don't really mean to make the chapters any certain length, I have just a set number of scenes in my head per chapter and write them out. Some end up longer, others shorter. This is about the same length as chapter 2. Glad you think it's good quality, though! I'm definitely having a lot of fun writing it and reading everyone's feedback.

As always, feedback is loved and an inspiration to keep writing!


	5. All Star Syndrome

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Galactik Football, I'm making no profit off this story and I don't claim that the events represented in this story are canon. It's just my look at what could have been happening off-screen when Rocket was playing Netherball.

**Summary:** Sinedd plays in the All Stars. Rocket watches. Neither of them like the way the match unfolds (winning isn't enough, you have to win with the right people on your side). Pre-slash, Rocket x Sinedd, Rocket x Tia, D'Jok x Mei referenced.

_Netherworld: All Star Syndrome_

"I know that you all know each other. But I also know that you are not used to playing as a team. I've coached a few of you before. D'Jok, Sinedd, but I know you all by your talent. You're all great players. It's an honor for me to be coaching you. But tonight, if you don't play together, the Technodroids have a good chance of beating you. Don't let that happen! Play as a team."

Even as Aarch spoke, Sinedd kept on looking over at D'Jok. It was too tempting to tell D'Jok, "I know where your _real_ captain is". It would be too much fun to watch his anger throw him off his game for the match; then Sinedd could shine without having to worry about D'Jok stealing his spotlight.

He tuned Aarch out. If he wanted to hear praise and reprimands doled out as a method of team control, he'd have stayed with the Snow Kids. Then a phrase caught his attention, making it hard for Sinedd to not laugh.

"Have fun, and don't get hurt."

The very opposite of Netherball. No wonder Rocket had chosen to leave his loser coach behind.

Aarch finished with the instruction, "Show the crowd just how great you are."

Everyone except Sinedd cheered. Sinedd kept his hands at his sides and waited for the match to begin.

Rocket'd be watching him play; Sinedd was going to play his hardest, not for Aarch, but for Rocket, so that Rocket would know what he'd face in the Sphere that night.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As they floated down towards the pitch in an oversized liferaft, Sinedd punched the air just like the other players. His eyes scanned the crowd for any familiar faces. He wanted to see if Artegor was there; he knew Rocket wouldn't be, not for this match.

The dance of the robots wasn't particularly impressive; Sinedd was just glad that he wasn't expected to take part in a dance-off against them. Practicing the moves for the Shadows dance was embarrassing enough. He refused to do any sort of group dance with D'Jok, unless it gave him the chance to accidentally kick D'Jok in the crotch – the redhead was just so _irritating_. Loud and spontaneous and arrogant. What sort of idiot would replace Rocket with D'Jok?

Sinedd's faith in Aarch's coaching skills, never very high, had dropped to practically below zero at hearing about that particular decision of Aarch's.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sinedd felt as if he had a shadow in D'Jok. A shadow that wasn't leaving him alone, running right behind him as Sinedd dribbled towards the goal – and then got the ball stolen from him.

"Nice teamwork, Sinedd!" D'Jok said, and Sinedd turned to glare at him, dark blue eyes narrowed. Idiot. So Sinedd had messed up. So what? He'd make it right.

…Then D'Jok scored a goal, and Sinedd hissed low through his teeth.

_Fine_. The next goal would be his.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In a crowd of other Galactik Football fans, Rocket stood and watched the match. He wore his new green-yellow-white costume, hair still bound back. Sinedd had offered him a ticket to today's match, but he'd declined. He didn't want any distractions like gratitude getting in the way of the Netherball match.

"Way to go, D'Jok." Rocket's smile was more for the fact that he knew Sinedd would be furious than because he was proud of D'Jok. An angry Sinedd would be one who was too eager to prove himself in the Sphere; Sinedd would make mistakes.

Rocket was ready to take advantage of them.

"Hey! You're Rocket, aren't you?" A fan recognized him, greeting him by name and making Rocket's eyes widen slightly as the man continued, "Man, you're the best! You're like, supernatural!"

He clasped his hands together, a worshipful look on his face.

So different from the screaming, second-degree pride of the Netherball fanatics.

Flatly, expertly, Rocket lied. "You've got the wrong guy."

He turned and walked away, not giving the man the chance to dispute it. There were other screens up everywhere in Genesis. He could watch the match in peace elsewhere.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Sinedd! Pass it to D'Jok! He's got a clear shot!" Aarch said.

Sinedd might've listened. Might've. But it felt less like Aarch was interested in the team winning and more interested in his pet player looking good.

Then one of the robots fouled him and the question became moot.

Sinedd hit the ground, protesting, "Hey!" at the fact that no foul was called, and Aarch continued to bark in his ear, "Do you hear me, Sinedd?!"

Sinedd might've pointed out that he couldn't hear anything except his own bones going 'ouch', but stayed down instead to give himself a few seconds to recover. He had to make sure he was in shape for the Sphere!

When he got his breath back, he snapped, "Back off, Aarch. You're not my coach anymore!"

Not that Artegor was all that much of an improvement, but at least he didn't _pretend_ to care.

"You're right, Sinedd. No player of mine would play so poorly against a bunch of robots!" Aarch said.

Slowly, Sinedd made himself stand up, ignoring D'Jok's offered hand.

Only further annoyed by that display of Sinedd's arrogance, D'Jok asked outright, "Hey! You want us to lose or what? We're in the same team here! We're not opponents."

Worse than D'Jok and Aarch was the silent disapproval of Warren as he walked by. Sinedd felt it like a weight bowing his shoulders inwards, making him want to crumple up with his arms over his head to protect himself from attacks.

He stood straight instead, and waited until Warren had passed.

Aarch and D'Jok, he knew. They were Snow Kids, a term which was synonymous with 'idiots' where Sinedd was concerned. They'd pretend to care about you as long as you were their ticket to victory, build up your faith in them – and then tear you down as soon as you failed to live up to their standards. At least Artegor was consistently harsh. Sinedd dealt better with people who were predictable than people who were fake.

But Warren? Warren was a football legend in his own lifetime.

Warren's disapproval _stung_.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It only got worse during half-time when Warren took it upon himself to publicly humiliate Sinedd. "Listen to me, all of you, and especially you, Sinedd. We're not going to be outplayd by these robots, are we? We can't let that happen again. Understand, Sinedd? No more mistakes. You settle your scores off the pitch. Is that clear?"

Everyone was staring at him. Sinedd nodded unwillingly, a scowl marring his face.

"Prove to me you deserve to be on this team." Though the statement was directed at Sinedd, Warren softened it by adding, "All of you. We're the All-Stars."

Sinedd wasn't going to forgive Warren for that, anymore than he'd forgive Aarch for standing by and allowing it to happen.

He consoled himself with the thought that Netherball had no coaches or teammates. And he'd be in the Sphere after this match. All he had to do was hold on.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A breakaway towards the goal (it was strange to be kicking a b all with their faces on it) and Sinedd passed to D'Jok. He was cooperating only because he knew that Netherball awaited him afterwards.

His second pass to D'Jok earned him Aarch's praise. "Good work, Sinedd! I knew you had it in you!"

As if Sinedd cared about that even a little.

Only Netherball mattered now. He'd rather hear the crowds cheering for him than any amount of idiocy from Aarch.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Robots stay home and vaccum, that's what they do best." Kernor's laughter sounded grating to Sinedd. He wondered if she was aware of the irony of her statement, considering that the metal-covered Rykers had always looked rather robotic to him.

It didn't matter. The rest of the All Stars were clustered together, drinking celebratory toasts and enjoying their victory. Sinedd hadn't scored any goals. It didn't feel like his victory at all.

His victory was still to come (in the Sphere, against Rocket).

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Great pass, Sinedd! Thanks!" D'Jok's friendly, cheerful voice was even more annoying than Kernor's laughter, to Sinedd's ears. But of course D'Jok would come to talk to him now. Sinedd had helped D'Jok look like the hero of the match with the goals that D'Jok had scored.

Ignoring him, Sinedd bent down to pick up the bag with his uniform in it, making D'Jok put both his hands on his hips, arching an eyebrow as he asked, "Aren't you hanging out with us?"

"I've better things to do." The only reason that Sinedd's response was comparatively mild was that he didn't want to waste time trading insults with D'Jok. A more interesting past time awaited him.

"Okay, suit yourself!" D'Jok called after him.

Sinedd rolled his eyes. As if he needed D'Jok's permission?

Under his breath, watching Sinedd leave, D'Jok muttered to himself, "Is he stuck-up or what?" He'd tried to be friendly! It was an honest attempt to reach out to his ex-teammate. Why was Sinedd rebuffing him? Or rather, the entire team? Did Sinedd just not understand the concept of human interaction?

If Sinedd could've heard D'Jok's thoughts, he would've laughed in the boy's face.

All the interaction he got came straight from the Sphere, which was exactly where he was heading now – to the Sphere, and to Rocket.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Author's Note**: Jeez, you guys must've REALLY been waiting for the slashy bits to show up! Ten reviews for one chapter? That's double as much as this fic usually gets. As a reward, you'll get two chapters back-to-back, meaning I'll post Rocket vs Sinedd in the Sphere tomorrow. Thanks so much, all of you!

StigMata: Cool name! And yeah, Sinedd's fear of being touched while vulnerable was… interesting.

They killed my turtle: Oooh, I totally haven't seen that discussion. But I think Rocket did it on purpose. I know that D'Jok has stronger kicks than Sinedd during try-outs for the Snow Kids, but only by a little. Who knows who the better player really is?

NeoNix: Nice to know it's still living up to its promise. Hope the new chapter came up soon enough.

Daiki88: Definitely will, as long as people keep reviewing it to let me know it's in demand. XD Plus, I'm having fun!

No_name: I think it's because a lot of the fans are European, meaning English isn't their first language? And GF is such a tiny fandom that we don't have any of the celebrity fanfic writers in yet. I'm glad that I'm making you like Sinedd! A friend I got into GF also likes Micro-Ice best. And I am very glad that I'm managing to make the chars believable and let you see why they act the way they do, since without that, what's going to happen in a few chapters would be totally unbelievable. Sinedd's described as 'disturbed' even on the official Jetix site, so I'm totally running with that. And hopefully explaining. Hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed your review.

Unnonameless: Aww, thanks for calling my writing professional. And I will bear your tip in mine. ^_~

FemaleSpock: …XD Hi! And yay for you calling it realistic, considering it involved Rocket deliberately causing Sinedd pain. *ships darrrrrrk pairings*

GFSistah: Ooooh, thanks for the explanation of the saukerl thing! I never got the PM, sadly. As for the mouse, who knows? It might pop up at the worst possible moment. XD

Lulu the White: Oh, evil!Rocket ftw indeed. Though Sinedd can give as good as he gets. As for afterwards, who knows? I'm not sure where exactly I'll end this fic; originally, I was going to stop as soon as Rocket left the Sphere with Tia, but I have another idea that might end up stretching it out.

Turkmen: I don't know about R/S being canon, but it's definitely awesome! I even made an icon for it. And Tia is very much the representation of good!Rocket to me. In this fic, as he grows further away from her, it's a sign that the Sphere is changing him and he knows it. The mouse is going to be a running gag, I think. It's too cute not to use. Sinedd's past can easily come off as an overload of emo, so I'm trying to slowly toss in little hints where it makes sense within the flow of the story. Rocket should know that Sinedd's life sucks more but he's very self-centered at the moment. Too angry about what happened to think of anyone else, especially someone who puts up a tough façade like Sinedd does. And if you liked the trophy part, two chapters from now, you're going to be so gleeful. Thanks for your long reviews, I love the detailed feedback! Totally not blahblahblah.

Mitsuko Soma: See! I kept my word! And tomorrow, I'll have another chapter up. And THEN I can write the chapter that I've been dying to do. Especially now that you sent me that theme song. Is it from Live Free or Die Hard, btw? It sounds like the song that Matt was listening to at the beginning.


	6. Spiral Tangle Success: Rocket vs Sinedd

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Galactik Football, I'm making no profit off this story and I don't claim that the events represented in this story are canon. It's just my look at what could have been happening off-screen when Rocket was playing Netherball.

**Summary:** Sinedd versus Rocket in the Sphere. Sinedd loses. Rocket … doesn't quite win. Slashy, violent and very dark Rocket x Sinedd with a mention of Rocket x Tia in this chapter.

_Netherworld: Spiral Tangle Success_

"Gentlemen, remember:" The robot said, facing Rocket and Sinedd both. Sinedd was in his Shadows uniform; Rocket wore his green-yellow garb.

"In Netherball, there are no rules."

Rocket closed his eyes and centered himself. Netherball. No rules. Win at any cost necessary.

"Play as hard as you like."

He opened his eyes and turned his head to the side to look at his opponent. Sinedd had just played a game of Galactik Football in the All Stars team (it should've been him there). He'd used the Smog. He'd run his hardest, jumped his highest – and hopefully, worn himself out at least a little. Rocket was fresher but on the other hand, Sinedd had watched him play in the Sphere and knew his tactics. Rocket had no idea what to expect from Sinedd.

"The best player wins and keeps control of the Sphere."

Only then did Sinedd smile.

"Please, shake hands and let the match begin!"

They turned to each other, and there was a moment of stillness, barely noticeable – it was Sinedd who reached out first, grey-gloved fingerless hand facing palm out to the crowd. Rocket's gloves were a dark red-brown, the color of dried blood. Not a Snow Kids color. Not a color Tia would ever wear.

The bare tips of their fingers brushed against each other for a moment, and Rocket felt the shock of adrenaline that told him a match had started. He'd never shaken hands with any of his opponents before. Sinedd was the first.

This was the first time that Rocket felt that thrill of power before stepping into the Sphere.

Sinedd squeezed Rocket's hand as hard as he could, revenge for the bruises that lurked under his glove, patterning his wrist in the shape of Rocket's fingers. Rocket squeezed back, and his anticipation of a good match grew as this precursory violence.

Such delicate fingers Sinedd had.

If Sinedd had been a goalie, Rocket wasn't sure he could have resisted the temptation to just _break _them.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Into the Sphere they went, and waited. In silence they stood, watching each other. Waiting. The Sphere felt like home to Rocket. He'd jumped around it, played in it, won in it. The absolute lack of Flux and complete reliance on innate ability made it even more of a test of true skill than Galactik Football was.

To Sinedd, the Sphere felt like a test. The Smog had made him sick when he'd attempted to go one-on-one against D'Jok. In the Sphere, he'd have no such excuse. He had to win. He had to beat Rocket.

The thrumming tension between them felt like glue, thick and trapping. They'd have to move. They'd have to speak. But for now, all they could do was look at each other. And wait.

Sinedd was the one to break the silence, once-blue eyes still darkened nearly to black from his use of the Smog earlier in the day. "It was a mistake to challenge me to play, Rocket."

"I like mistakes." Rocket's voice was low, confident. It changed when he was in the Sphere; it reflected the person he became when playing Netherball. Tone like poisoned honey, eyes honey-hued too, he finished with a jerk of his head, "I've made plenty."

Challenging Sinedd to a match wasn't one of them. Taking Sinedd up on his introduction to Netherball also wasn't. And saving Tia's life could never be a mistake.

The ball appeared, and Sinedd got possession of it.

Rocket forgot about everything except the game.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A smile, a smirk, and Sinedd kicked the ball behind him. Rocket lunged for it, and instantly, Sinedd stepped into him, hitting Rocket with his shoulder hard enough to make Rocket spin around, then hit the floor unwillingly, barely able to cushion his fall with his arms. It felt surprisingly good. Right. It felt as if of course Sinedd should start out with a dirty move, a shove that was unnecessary and just a way for Sinedd to prove how vicious he could be.

It felt like Netherball, and when Rocket's body crashed against the ground, it felt like a bearhug (welcome home, Rocket).

It was the first time that Rocket had fallen and enjoyed it.

_In Netherball, there are no rules._

Rocket lay there, cheek against the cold concrete, and Sinedd didn't care.

A hard kick, and the ball went into the goal.

Score: 1-0, Sinedd.

Kicking Rocket in the ribs would've been overkill. Sinedd was satisfied to have proven to Rocket that Rocket wasn't the only one who could push others around.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Don't go easy on me, Rocket." Sinedd threw the words in Rocket's face, holding up both arms as if to indicate innocence. As if he hadn't just viciously fouled Rocket in order to score his goal.

Rocket got up, and cricked his neck from side to side, working his body back into a state of suppleness. Where Sinedd had collided with him, his side felt hot, pulsing jagged touches of heat.

He smiled anyway. "Don't worry. I won't."

Their eyes met as they waited for the next ball to drop, and then both of them kicked in unison, whirling their legs to trap the ball between their feet.

Not quite a test of strength, but close.

Sinedd got control of the ball and shot it into a corner – then he felt Rocket's legs between his own, Rocket's calf pressing hard against him and sending him reeling. He didn't fall, but he stumbled, and that was a long enough delay to let Rocket back him into a corner.

They didn't touch. They didn't need to (yet). Sinedd shot the ball back through Rocket's legs, and spun, expecting Rocket to follow the ball against the wall.

Then he could slam Rocket into the wall, muscled and tall and _trapped_. Sinedd liked the idea of that almost as much as he liked the idea of outwitting Rocket.

Rocket evaded him by jumping up to grab a ledge; his opponent's plans had shown in his eyes. Sinedd's palms smacked against white concrete, and Rocket dropped down into a pose that in another place and time would've been an invitation for a fight.

It still was, really. Just not the usual sort of fight.

Rocket got control of the ball and sent a kick towards the goal, the kick having such force behind it that pure instinct took over and Sinedd ducked away from it. It bounced off his back with a jarring thud, and went into the goal, tying their scores.

Score: 1-1

Sinedd hated himself the moment he'd realized what he'd done.

Rocket didn't make it any better, jeering as Sinedd straightened up, "Nice assist, Sinedd."

Sinedd was a striker. Rocket was a midfielder. Rocket should be the one giving assists, not Sinedd.

And in the Sphere, where there was no such thing as a team, no passes were necessary, no assists needed.

Sinedd hated Rocket just a little for being able to rub salt into his wound. But only a little, because it was exactly what he would've done if he'd been Rocket.

Walking to the center, he threatened-promised, "This will be your last match, Rocket."

Rocket's reply was shockingly cool, the deliberately unimpressed look he gave Sinedd making it clear how unlikely he thought that was. "You'll be lucky to leave on your own two feet."

Sinedd ignored the shiver that went down his spine at hearing Rocket say words that fit his mouth better.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next ball that fell down was subject to a test of strength. Their legs clashed against each other again and again, neither of them willing to give up. Sinedd managed to win the kick with a twist that made his spine seem like rubber, but it was Rocket who scored, making the ball whizz past Sinedd's face.

Score: 1-2, Rocket.

Breathing hard, Rocket felt the rush of victory hiss through his veins. Like the Breath, but better. Hot instead of cold. _His_. And his only.

Rocket smiled, mockery giving a lilt to his words, "You see? That's called skill."

Sinedd had skills of his own. He'd show them to Rocket before the matchw was over.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Payback came soon as Sinedd slammed his elbow into Rocket's face – and scored while Rocket was bent over in pain. Rocket couldn't have kept playing. Sinedd got him right between the eyes, on his forehead. The entire world exploded into pain and for a moment, Rocket couldn't even see anything.

His head throbbed, balance broken, and Rocket curled up against the wall. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

For a moment, he wanted the Breath, just to clear his head.

The noise that indicated that Sinedd had scored jolted him out of any nostalgic thoughts.

Score: 2-2

Now it was Rocket's turn to want revenge.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Two minutes left on the clock; both the boys were playing their best.

Spins and kicks and trapping the ball between their legs as they jumped – Rocket and Sinedd did everything they could to score the final winning goal of the match. The only sound in the Sphere was their breathing, harsh and laboured, and the smack of the ball against the walls, a louder version of the slaps of their sneakers against the floor.

Rocket skidded along the wall then jumped to the ground, scything his leg just above the floor to knock Sinedd down. But Sinedd anticipated the move, and jumped up, above Rocket's leg.

When he landed, his foot twisted underneath him and the sharp snap of his ankle breaking sent him collapsing to the floor. Pain. _Pain_! It lanced up his leg hotly, throbbing angrily at his ankle, a vicious pulse of pure agony. All the adrenaline in the world couldn't cancel out the shock of knowing his ankle was broken (he couldn't win this match, what if he never played football again?) and that even getting up was beyond his means.

Rocket had heard the snapping of Sinedd's bones too. The sound, so small, had echoed in the Sphere.

To Rocket's ears, it sounded like applause.

The knowledge of Sinedd's injury made him smile as he toyed with the ball in front of Sinedd, deliberately taunting him. "Come on, Sinedd. Get up. It's no fun playing alone."

The mock-innocence of Rocket's tone goaded Sinedd into trying to stand up. He had to crouch, weight distributed unevenly, pain making him hunch over and fight the urge to drop to the floor again.

Rocket wasn't impressed by the desperate stubbornness of the Shadows player. But he was amused.

A smile curved his lips and in the same light, innocent tone, Rocket commented, "Bye-bye, Sinedd. Nice of you to drop by."

The ball bounced off the wall, instead of going into the goal, but that was Rocket intended. He ran towards Sinedd, as deliberate as a lion that had picked out its prey, and jumped.

Sinedd saw Rocket's feet coming towards him and for a moment, thought that Rocket meant to kick him in the face. Instead, Rocket bounced off Sinedd's chest and kicked the ball directly into the goal – the shock of Rocket's added weight made Sinedd's ankle scream with pain.

It was a miracle that Sinedd didn't fall over. He couldn't find it in himself to be grateful for that when he was so aware of the fact that Rocket had won the game by using him to score two goals out of the three.

Score: 2-3, Rocket.

Rocket landed facing away from Sinedd, and only turned after the ringing of the bell announced his victory. He swaggered over to Sinedd, amber eyes glinting, and soaked in the spectacle of Sinedd in undeniable pain. This was the best Netherball victory of all. It felt better than beating Kernor, and much better than beating Woowamboo.

Even if it didn't feel finished, quite yet. They were out of time, but Rocket wanted to continue playing. Maybe a final blow would be all it'd take to slake his lust for his opponent's humiliation.

"I forgot to remind you," A shake of his head, and Rocket's eyes were fixed on Sinedd's, the glassiness of Sinedd's gaze that hinted that Sindd was pain-dazed and not properly able to take in what Rocket was saying. Rocket forged ahead with his mockery of the other anyway. It was for his benefit, not Sinedd's. There was too much pleasure to be taken in rubbing salt in Sinedd's wounds (and even thinking that made Rocket wonder what'd happen if he kicked Sinedd's wounded ankle, would Sinedd collapse right there?). "No rules, Sinedd."

He turned to walk away, raising a hand to Sinedd as he turned his back on him, showing he considered Sinedd no threat. "Get well soon."

His exist was a triumphant one. Everyone cheered, as they always did. Rocket soaked it in, arms raised into the air, pumping them up and down as he embraced the crowd's approval. But it still didn't feel like enough. It still didn't feel like they were finished.

Dissatisfaction gnawed at him from the inside, even as he outwardly celebrated. He'd won. He'd thrashed Sinedd soundly. He'd mocked him before leaving. What more was there to do?

The crowd's attention was solely on Rocket. Nobody noticed when Sinedd limped out, each step making his body tight with tension. By the time he reached the console, sweat was pouring down his face. He couldn't do this. He couldn't walk any further. His ankle was _broken_. And he had a match against the Pirates tomorrow!

Rocket kept walking without a backwards look for Sinedd; Sinedd stared as Rocket walked away from him, back to the room that they still shared.

And then Warren – Warren, who had scolded him during the All Stars match, who had publicly shamed him – stopped Rocket.

Rage stabbed through Sinedd's heart. Even now, Rocket was considered better than him. Even shamed, suspended, and reduced to playing in underground matches, Rocket still got the approval that Sinedd never did. Rocket had just broken Sinedd's ankle, and Warren was willing to overlook even that!

Sinedd knew nobody would ever give him such leniency.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As Rocket strode through the crowd, he heard a too-familiar voice greet him. "Great moves in there, Rocket. Too bad it wasn't on a GF field."

Warren was a hero to anyone who liked football. Rocket recognized his voice instantly, but wasn't happy to hear it. Why should he care about Galactik Football champions? Netherball was all he was interested in.

"In case you haven't heard, I've been tossed out of the League." The bitterness that laced his words betrayed that Rocket wasn't as casual about it as he wanted to be.

"I heard you were temporarily suspended." Warren said, correcting Rocket before he eased into an attempt to coax Rocket away from what he saw as a dangerous, unworthy past time. "This Netherball, it's not for you. You're a real champion, Rocket. You don't need this."

"I know what I need." Rocket said, knowing it for a lie even as he spoke. There was something missing. But it wasn't Galactik Football. "I enjoy Netherball." That was true. This had been the best match so far. He just didn't feel as if the match was over. His victory over Sinedd felt incomplete.

But _why_?

Annoyed by that niggling feeling, Rocket turned away, dismissing Warren in a mockery of good manners, "Now, if you'll excuse me."

Warren grabbed Rocket's arm, unwilling to let go of him so easily. Rocket was too good a player to simply be lost like this. Someone had to try to save him. Sinedd was one thing (traitor), but Rocket? Rocket was the shining star of Akillian. Rocket should've been on the All Stars field today with him. "Come upstairs and play. There, you don't have to kick people around to score."

Warren said the wrong words. Rocket _liked_ 'kicking people around', as Warren had put it. It felt good. The best goals weren't the ones scored fast and easily. They were the ones that people bruised for, bled for, broke for. Like Sinedd had.

With that thought, Rocket realized what was wrong. Sinedd wasn't with him. Sinedd was injured and left behind; Rocket wanted to stand somewhere and watch Sinedd limp towards him.

"See you around, Warren." Curt words, Rocket's mind already spinning as he walked through the crowd towards the exit.

He'd stop there and watch Sinedd try to make his way out on his own. He knew Sinedd would be too proud to accept help from anyone.

And then?

Rocket smiled as he took up a vantage point that would let him track Sinedd through the crowd.

Then the game would continue.

Rocket had beaten Sinedd in the Sphere, but that hadn't been enough. He could feel it in his bones, the sense of incompletion. The match wasn't over. It lived in his blood, in Sinedd's broken bones.

This time, they'd carried the match out of the Sphere with them.

Out of the Sphere would be where the game was finished; by now, it had nothing to do with football.

This victory would be far more primal.

_~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~_

**Author's Note**: I love Bennett in this episode. He is SO cool on that hoverboard. That said, you guys had better love me. I had to pause and rewatch the handshake scene SO MANY TIMES to figure out who reached out first. **NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE RATED K+/M**, so please take that into account when checking for updates. If possible, enable Story Alert for this fic to know when a new chapter's up, otherwise you won't see my story displayed on the front page of the GF category unless you make sure to choose all ratings, then hit go. I might upload a censored version here, since I know some people don't like reading sex, then a full version to my livejournal/insanejournal, or upload the full version as an alternate chapter – what do you guys think I should do? New chapter should be up by Monday, hopefully!

GFSistah: *grins* I'm glad you liked the match! I always worry when I have to write matches that I'm making them boring since they're such fun to watch that I don't think text can adequately portray them. I hope this chapter lived up to your expectations!

Unnonameless: I try to update every two or three days, and if I don't, it's because I wrote a different story or a chapter for something else. XD And honestly, since I started off with the idea of having Rocket and Sinedd get into something sort of twisted relationship, that makes keeping this story original a lot easier, since canon would never do that, so all I have to do is rewrite everything in a way that makes it believable that Rocket would be rooming with Sinedd and spiralling downwards like this. And omg, you're a fellow Pratchett fan? AWESOME! XDDDDD

Female Spock: Sinedd totally doesn't get on well with authority figures. Especially ones that _lie_ to him. I felt really bad for Sinedd during the All Star matches – imagine getting yelled at by someone famous in front of everyone else!

Mitsuko Soma: Ahhh, nifty! And let me guess, your fanfic idea is D'Jok/Sinedd? XD I totally have more ideas that I want to write – and the next chapter of Fighting Gravity – but I'm trying to concentrate on Netherworld for the moment. Mostly because the next chapter is where I FINALLY get to write Rocket/Sinedd explicitly instead of the build-up and the pre-slash moments


	7. To The Victor

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Galactik Football, I'm making no profit off this story and I don't claim that the events represented in this story are canon. It's just my look at what could have been happening off-screen when Rocket was playing Netherball.

**Summary:** WARNING: IF YOU HAVE ANY PROBLEMS WITH MALE X MALE PAIRINGS, SKIP THIS CHAPTER. Likewise if you have a problem with sexualized violence, initially dubious consent, violence in general and the idea that two boys can be messed up like crazy but still have sex. Rocket x Sinedd overtly (a nice change from six chapters of build-up, right?), and Rocket x Tia mentioned.

_Netherworld: To The Victor_

"What took you so long?" Rocket asked, seated cross-legged on his bed. The room was perfectly dark, making Sinedd's silhouette against the lit-up hallway a clean-lined shadow. It meant Rocket couldn't see the agony that twisted Sinedd's face with every step he took, his own weight jarring down on his ankle, or the liquid blackness of his pain-dilated pupils.

"You try walking all the way here on a broken ankle!" The words were snarled, Sinedd slamming his hand against the wall to smack the light switch. The bright light blinded Rocket for a second, whose eyes had been accustomed to the dark, and by the time he adjusted, Sinedd was already sitting on his own bed, bent over from the waist to take his boots off and not looking at Rocket.

Rocket glanced down at the floor to make sure the mouse wasn't there, then four quick steps took him over to Sinedd's bed, Rocket sitting on it quickly so that the mouse couldn't run out from anywhere and bite him. "Here. Let me."

It'd be easier for him to undo the multiple snaps on the Shadows' boots. Especially since this close, he could see that Sinedd's hands were shaking, fumbling at the straps.

Sinedd had felt it when the mattress dipped down at Rocket's weight was added to it. He didn't turn around, trying still to take the boots off on his own, tone tinged with bitterness that couldn't quite hide the pain. "Haven't you done enough?"

_No_, Rocket thought but didn't say. The match wasn't over. Rocket hadn't done enough – but he didn't know what the next move was either. He just knew that it would somehow make things better if he could see the damage that he'd caused (allowed to happen).

"Sinedd. We're not in the Sphere now."

But the game was still continuing, even if Sinedd didn't know it.

"Your ankle's broken, and you won't be able to get that boot off on your own without jarring it further." Rocket knew Sinedd wouldn't believe that someone cared about him. Why should he? It wasn't as if anyone did, or ever had, as far as Rocket knew. So he added a selfish reason that Sinedd would be more likely to buy. "You end up unable to stand, who's going to operate the Sphere?"

"…" Silently, Sinedd extended his leg towards Rocket, wincing as even that bit of movement made his ankle scream red-raw angrily. Rocket was right. Sinedd couldn't go to sleep with his boots on, and they weren't offering his ankle any support either. More than the Sphere, he had a match against the Pirates tomorrow. He needed to be able to at least stand for the face-offs, even if he could spend the rest of the time using the Smog to teleport and thus taking the weight off his ankle.

"I'll get you some ice from the mini-bar and a towel to wrap it in." Rocket said as he started to get to work on fastening the boot over the injured foot. One strap over the arch of the foot. Another strap over the ankle itself. A sort of hard pad behind the calf that Rocket didn't see a use for, but it was strapped just under the calf with a thin neon-green band. The boots ended up above the knee, the material of them so soft as to be form-fitting though the sole of the boot was heavily cleated and the area around the foot was noticeably thicker.

Sinedd didn't say anything as Rocket started to roll the boot down over itself, but his hands clenched tightly in the bedsheets, as if he were forcing his desire to scream into holding onto the fabric instead.

Centimetre by centimetre, the pale, muscled leg was revealed, Rocket's knuckles a warm drag against Sinedd's skin. It surprised Rocket how cold Sinedd was; how unhealthily pale he seemed. Akillian, for all that it was a planet of ice and snow, had sunshine. The reflection of the sun off the snow could cause sunburns as bad as any on a tropical planet. He couldn't quite remember if Sinedd's skin had always been so faded; he hadn't paid enough attention to him before, when they'd been roommates as the Snow Kids.

The cold was wrong. Sinedd was in pain. Shouldn't he be feeling hot?

Unless it was the fault of the Smog, curling poisonously slow through Sinedd's veins and leaching the heat that his blood would otherwise carry. But surely if the Smog was hurting him, Artegor wouldn't let Sinedd use it.

Rocket's thoughts grew distracted as his fingers chanced upon an old scar, sunken into the flesh, midway down the calf, the length of his little finger but no thicker than a line a marker might draw. He gave Sinedd an inquiring look, pausing for a moment with his hands cupped around the bare skin of Sinedd's calf instead of the boot he'd been undoing, "What happened here?"

"None of your business." The words were curt, but Sinedd refused to explain as much because it wasn't Rocket's business as because he knew that longer sentences would make his voice wobble. And he didn't want that. He didn't want anything to betray what it cost him to sit still as Rocket _touched_ him.

"Fine." Rocket's agreement could've been taken at surface value at the beginning, before he'd ever played in the Sphere. It wasn't any of his business if Sinedd had scars or how Sinedd had gotten them.

Except he'd won. To the victor went the spoils, no? If you played Galactik Football, that meant you got the GF Cup. If you played Netherball, you got to be the King of the Sphere.

If you played this…

Rocket didn't even know what this game was, let alone what he'd win. But it had something to do with the Sphere. It had something to do with Tia being the one to bring him to Galactik Football, and drawing him higher. It had something to do with his fall for grace (he fell for her), and Sinedd bringing him to Netherball, drawing him lower.

There was a parallel there, Rocket was dimly aware of it, but it was hard to grasp precisely. Everything felt like it did in the Sphere, when he was so focused on the game, on the next goal, on his _opponent_, that everything else just faded away. White noise. Static.

He held Sinedd's broken ankle between both his hands, and he could feel Sinedd's heartbeat throbbing against his palms. It was like holding Sinedd's heart.

Except it wasn't bleeding. It should be bleeding. It would be better if he was. Rocket could feel the sharp, wrenched edge of Sinedd's bone poking against his palm. If he twisted it just right, it'd tear through Sinedd's skin, jut out white and blood-slick. Rocket could imagine exactly how it'd feel in his hand, how his fingers would slip away from it, and how Sinedd would _scream_.

The screaming would be the best part, Rocket decided, covetous eyes fixed on Sinedd's ankle (heart) as Sinedd fidgeted with the covers, teeth gritted against the pain. Finally, Sinedd couldn't take it anymore and snapped, "You gonna stare or you going to get that ice you promised?"

Rocket's eyes looked up, and they were as dark as old gold, gold that had been fought for and stored in treasure chests, gold that had had blood spilled for its sake and gold that had funded wars. He looked at Sinedd and for a moment, he didn't see him.

He saw a way to win.

Everything felt distant, just as it did in the Sphere. The pounding of his own heart was overloud in his ears; the walls blurred into off-white, and the outlines of Sinedd's body were sharp. Every little strand of hair was picked out in fine detail; the shallow curve of his eyelids were as precise as if painted by a master artist.

Inside Rocket's head, everything rearranged itself, the way it did when he was taking a shot. He saw the angle that the ball needed to travel at; he calculated the force with which he'd need to kick it to have it ricochet off the wall and into the goal.

_Click. _It all slotted into place, just as it did in the Sphere.

The nagging feeling of the match not being completed left him. Rocket knew now how the game was meant to continue.

Fingers still around Sinedd's ankle, holding it (hostage), he lunged forwards, striker-fast, and pressed his mouth to Sinedd's.

_~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~_

**Author's Note**: *yawns* I'm sleepy and going to bed now. Wrestling with these two to try to get them into bed without killing each other is exhausting. More tomorrow, or maybe the day after. And I'll answer your reviews properly then, too. I appreciate every single one of them, and it's your feedback that's making me post this now so that you'll at least have SOMETHING instead of having to wait for the whole scene to be up.

Review, please? Tell me if Rocket's coming off as IC for how I've spent the last six chapters setting him up, and what you think is going to happen next. If you're going to yell at me for being a tease … I am totally sorry but hey, something's better than nothing, right? And this has their first kiss!


	8. Go The Spoils

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Galactik Football, I'm making no profit off this story and I don't claim that the events represented in this story are canon. It's just my look at what could have been happening off-screen when Rocket was playing Netherball.

**Summary: **Every game has a winner and a loser. Rocket wins. Sinedd loses. Violence, dub con, sexualized violence, and general dark stuff.

_Netherworld: The Spoils_

One moment, Sinedd was seated on the bed, waiting impatiently for Rocket to let go of his ankle and fetch him some ice. The next moment, too fast for him to react, he had a pair of full, firm lips pressed to his, and his entire field of vision was consumed by a close-up of Rocket's earth-dark skin.

His ankle was still throbbing with flashes of pain, each pulse like his bones being smashed by a heated pot. Rocket kissing him – because what else could it be? – temporarily drove out thoughts of pain from his head, sheer shock overruling his body.

"Don't--" Sinedd tried to say, twisting his head to yank his mouth free. To open his mouth to speak was a mistake; it allowed Rocket a chance to slip his tongue between Sinedd's lips, touch it to Sinedd's own tongue and lightly caress the ridges of his teeth. The intrusion made Sinedd snarl, even though the sound came out choked, and instinctively, he bit down as hard as he could, teeth breaking into the surprisingly delicate appendage until the taste of Rocket's blood filled his mouth.

Rocket wasn't deterred. Of course Sinedd would resist. It was part of the game. No match was played without an opponent. It would've made no sense if during the final between the Shadows and the Snow Kids, the Snow Kids had simply stepped aside and allowed the Shadows to score as many goals as they wanted.

Breaking past the resistance – defeating your opponents – was the whole point of the game. Especially in the Sphere. Especially now.

He licked the inside of Sinedd's mouth, and felt the hot swelling that told him that Sinedd had bitten the inside of his cheek to stop himself from screaming when his ankle snapped. He left blood on Sinedd's mouth, painting red the narrow, pale lips, and tilted his head down, trying to force his blood down Sinedd's throat.

_Score: 0,1, Rocket._

For a moment, Sinedd's hands came up and rested on Rocket's shoulders. Rocket steadied himself to resist being pushed away, ready to push Sinedd down onto the bed if necessary, but instead of shoving, Sinedd _punched_. He made a closed fist of his hand and hit Rocket in the side of the neck as hard as he could.

He'd grown up in an orphanage. He knew how to fight. And he knew very well how painful being hit in the throat was.

Rocket's breath choked in his throat, and he fell back, scrambling away from Sinedd with his hands up to his own throat. For a moment, his stomach surged upwards, and he felt the urge to throw up as a knot halfway up his throat.

_Score: 1,1_

He'd let go of Sindd's ankle, forfeiting his advantage in favour of not being messily sick all over the bed. His goal had been cancelled out by the one that Sinedd had scored; it served Rocket right for underestimating him.

Rocket wouldn't make that mistake twice.

Looking up, recovering quickly from the initial nausea, Rocket saw that Sinedd had crawled further back on the bed, and had a hand under the pillow, as if going to throw it at him. Wary, stunned eyes were narrowed and blazing with disbelief and the intense black gaze fixed on Rocket was the sort that would've made him drop dead instantly if looks could kill.

Rocket didn't get to make the first move this time. Sinedd went on the offensive instantly, "What the hell, Rocket?! You think when I've got a broken ankle – an untreated broken ankle – and just lost to you in the Sphere is the best time to hit on me?" A dark scowl and Sinedd finished off with the aggravated question, "Since when are you even into guys?"

It was the most that Rocket had ever heard Sinedd speak about anything that wasn't connected to football.

(But this was still a game).

Rocket knew that Sinedd's speech wasn't really what he was saying. What Sinedd was saying was 'you will not win'. Like in the Sphere, players didn't mock each other because conversation was important. Sinedd was trying to break Rocket's concentration. Talking to Rocket was a way of delaying Rocket's next move.

Sinedd was just trying to play for time, Rocket was sure, and though it was a good move, it was a defensive move. Nobody ever won playing on the defensive.

Rocket touched his fingers to his mouth and they came away wet. The redness of his blood on Sinedd's face made Sinedd's mouth look like an open gash and Rocket stared at it for a long moment, fascinated by how the splash of colour looked against Sinedd's pale skin. His blood. That was his blood marking Sinedd (marking Sinedd as his).

"Are you even going to answer me?" Sinedd demanded, the silence from Rocket infuriating him almost as much as it unnerved him. He didn't like the way that Rocket was looking at him. It was too thoughtful, too dispassionate, too – calculating. Yes. That was what made Sinedd so suspicious; Rocket wasn't meant to look like him.

"No." Rocket finally said, and reached out with a deliberate slowness, arm angled upwards to show Sinedd that he wasn't going to try to grab the other boy again. His red-slicked fingertips drew a line across Sinedd's forehead (the mark of Cain) and Rocket smiled, satisfaction a dangerous glimmer in his leonine eyes.

Initially having stayed still to see what Rocket would do, the wet smear on his forehead snapped Sinedd out of his fascinated stillness. He grabbed Rocket's wrist, the contrast between the ends of the half-fingered gloves and the bare ends of his fingers so clear against Rocket's skin, and _squeezed_. Just as Rocket had. "Go to your own bed. I'll take care of my own foot."

Out of spite, as payback for the stolen kiss, he squeezed down again, only to see Rocket's eyelids drop halfway, mouth falling open a little from pleasure. Oh. That felt _good_. Almost as good as hurting Sinedd had. But why? It wasn't good when the opposite side scored. But this wasn't an actual goal, was it? This felt more like the collisions during the match, the hard smacks of bodies colliding and leaving bruise-memories for weeks afterwards. The clash, not the scores. The beautiful violence. As Sinedd squeezed down harder, Rocket pictured the bruises that'd form under his gloves, and _smiled_, teeth very white in his dark face.

"What--" As if burnt, Sinedd snatched his hand back, thoroughly confused. "What's_ wrong _with you?"

"I haven't finished winning yet." A simple explanation, and all the more terrifying in its simplicity. This was all just a game to Rocket. He was bent on winning. He wasn't thinking about which gender he preferred; this wasn't, like Sinedd thought, some sort of teenage crush.

This was more important. This was about victory.

He licked over his lips, tasting his own blood, wondering what Sinedd's was like, and shifted a little, "But do you know what I've learnt?"

"Winning what? The match is over. You won." Sinedd asked, exasperated, and not liking the faraway look in Rocket's eyes one bit. It was as if Rocket was looking right at him, but not seeing him at all. "And I don't care what you learnt. Leave me alone and go jack off in the shower."

Rocket's teeth flashed in mimicry of a smile and suddenly, he had Sinedd's broken ankle between both of his hands again. He twisted it hard, and Sinedd's world exploded into blinding pain, so abrupt that he screamed without meaning to, vision going black for a moment as red stars appeared in bright explosions behind his eyelids.

Everything was pain. Everything, everything. He wasn't aware of the sound of Rocket's laughter, nor of how he'd curled up keening, the high drawn-out sound slipping through his teeth like ribbons issuing from his heart. One knee was against his chest, and Sinedd was half-sobbing from pain, rising into a higher consciousness as it simply got to be too much to endure and he felt darkness come to claim him—

Then Rocket let go.

Mercy had nothing to do with why he released Sinedd; he simply didn't want Sinedd falling unconscious and spoiling his fun.

It really was no fun playing by himself.

"You--" Sinedd coughed the word out pitifully, unable to believe that Rocket had just done that.

"When you scream," Rocket confided in Sinedd, leaning forwards, yellow eyes gleaming, "Nobody ever comes."

"…" Sinedd glanced at the door instinctively. The hotel walls weren't that thick, were they? Surely someone would come. And as difficult as it might be to explain Rocket's presence here, or how he'd injured his ankle, it was still better than having his ankle ruined for life and his career discarded like Rocket's was.

Was this why Rocket was doing it? He was trying to ruin Sinedd's career as revenge for his own having been ruined? But Sinedd hadn't had anything to do with that!

…Unless this was about the All-Stars match, and Sinedd getting to play in it when Rocket hadn't. But then Rocket should be going after D'Jok instead of—

The touch of something cold to his ankle made him wince, even as he realized that Rocket was simply applying ice to it as he'd promised. Chunks of ice in a towel, wrapped around the throbbing limb, took some of the pain off.

"You have nightmares every night. And you scream." Rocket said as if continuing a conversation with no pauses, or as if Sinedd had actually asked him to explain. "But nobody ever comes to check on you."

The slowly-ebbing pain meant that Sinedd could recognize the cruelty in Rocket's smile for what it was.

"So nobody will come now." Rocket concluded as he tucked the ends of the towel under the makeshift bandage he'd created. Then he looked up at Sinedd and the edges of his smile widened, "No matter how much you scream."

_Score: 1,2, Rocket._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Author's Note**: Yeah, so, very sorry about the cliffhanger last time. See this? This is me building up to sex and trying to figure out what 's guidelines will let me get away with and how to keep Rocket and Sinedd both IC. How do you guys think I'm doing so far with that? Did anyone predict this reaction from Sinedd?

A few brief reader responses (I'm PMing people who sign in and leave reviews from now on, to keep this section shorter!).

Unonameless: Actually, I heart praise because it's what keeps me writing. Seriously, when I have trouble with a scene and think of giving up on a fic, I reread the reviews and remind myself that all these people will be disappointed if I drop the fic now. XD Thanks for your constant feedback and I hope Sinedd's reaction came off as IC.

GFSista: At least I'm a tease with a consistent posting schedule? XD

Lulu the White & thilda: Why assume Sinedd's a virgin/that was his first kiss? ^_~ He IS about 20 after all, and the most famous member of the Shadows team.

No_Name: I'm glad you like the scar detail! I love putting in little things like that. And Sinedd is mistaking the situation, sort of, but that's because Rocket is CRAZY and no sane person would guess what's going on. Or insane-in-Sinedd style person, even.

FemaleSpock: Well, debatably, Rocket's still helping Sinedd with his injury. He could've reset the ankle when he twisted it – or just made it worse. ^_~

Thank you to EVERYONE that reviewed. Next part should be up around Monday-ish. I'm writing it as scenes and posting instead of one huge chapter since else, it'd be too long and take ages to finish. Feedback, as always, is loved and keeps me writing. XD


	9. Winning Hand

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Galactik Football, I'm making no profit off this story and I don't claim that the events represented in this story are canon. It's just my look at what could have been happening off-screen when Rocket was playing Netherball.

**Summary: **Time for a change of tactics. Male/male sex, violence, dub con, mindfuck and two very unstable boys in very close physical proximity. Rocket x Sinedd, Rocket x Tia mentioned.

_Netherworld: Winning Hand_

"If you're trying to be scary, you fail." Sinedd said (lied), thoroughly unimpressed by Rocket's statement of facts. He knew he had nightmares. The fact that he screamed in the night was one of the reasons that he'd been allotted a single hotel room while all the other Shadows players shared rooms. He hadn't thought about how it might affect Rocket, mostly because Rocket had already shared a room with him when Sinedd had been in the Snow Kids, so Rocket was already aware of that peculiarity of Sinedd's. Sinedd had accepted the fact that nobody came when he screamed. It put him at a disadvantage now, but so what? It was better this way. It meant that he wouldn't be tempted to scream for help like some scared little girl.

Defiantly, he glared at Rocket, even as Rocket continued to apply ice to his ankle (and why was Rocket doing that? Did Rocket feel guilty about having twisted it, or was Rocket just trying to make Sinedd relax so that the next blow would hurt even more?).

Rocket's speech hadn't scared Sinedd; having his broken ankle twisted had.

Sinedd's lips formed such a narrow line as he spat, pupils huge with pain,"Now get off my bed."

_Score: 2,2  
_  
"No." Rocket patted the end of the towel, and gazed at Sinedd. The other boy was still pale, pain and fear having sapped what little color he had, and the red smear of Rocket's blood over Sinedd's mouth stood out starkly against Sinedd's skin. Sinedd hadn't even tried to wipe it off; Rocket wondered if Sinedd was even aware of the fact that it was there.

He reached up and touched his own mouth, bringing his tongue out so that he could press his fingertips against the sore wound where Sinedd's teeth had sunk in and drawn blood. His smile was very red, and dangerously cocksure. "The game's not over yet."

"What game?" Sinedd asked, exasperated. His hand strayed towards the pillows again as he tried to unobtrusively shift away from Rocket. "There is no game. You already won."

"No." Rocket repeated. Sinedd was lying. Or he didn't know that they were playing. But of course he had to know, because how could he not feel the same gnawing sense of incompletion that Rocket had? He'd been in the Sphere with Rocket. He must know that it hadn't truly finished there.

Rocket's move now.

A quick lunge forwards, and Rocket straddled Sinedd over the waist, holding him down by catching both of Sinedd's wrists in one of his hands, the other hand resting over Sinedd's throat. Pain dulled Sinedd's reflexes, making him fatigued, and all he could do was kick Rocket once Rocket was on him. One ankle was broken, putting it out of commission, but he could knee Rocket in the back with the other leg, twist the leg to the side and slam the side of his foot against Rocket's shoulderblades. "GET OFF ME! Don't touch me!"

He wasn't hyperventilating. He wasn't. But he was breathing faster than he should've, angry horror a poisonous twist through him that made his stomach curl. He hated being at a disadvantage. He hated the fact that Rocket was on top of him and he couldn't do anything about it and he didn't know what Rocket was planning or even _why_. It felt like being trapped. It felt like Rocket's weight was crushing all the air out of him, the mattress beneath him suddenly unyielding.

Sinedd hated it when his life wasn't in his control; he fought to get Rocket off him, not ceasing in his assault on the other's back even as his leg tired.

_Score: 2, 3, Rocket._

"If I'd won," And Rocket brushed his hand up Sinedd's throat to his cheek, with the same deliberate slowness that he'd use when plucking a flower from a thorned bush, "You wouldn't flinch away from me."

His hand came to rest on Sinedd's cheek and a moment later, Sinedd twisted his head to a side and bit down savagely on the inside of Rocket's wrist. Rocket was still wearing his half-fingered gloves; Sinedd got a mouthful of cloth for his trouble that made him spit and turn to snarl up at Rocket, "You broke my ankle, then twisted it. And now you've pinned me down and won't let me go. Why should I have any reason to trust you to touch me? Or why should I even want it? "

"I also helped you get your boot off. And I iced your ankle, as I said I would." Rocket pointed out, wrist stinging from where Sinedd's teeth had sunk into it despite the gloves' protection. "I didn't want to have to twist your ankle, Sinedd. But you needed the demonstration. And I wasn't the one to break it; you landed badly and broke it yourself."

The fact that Rocket's last two sentences were true didn't improve Sinedd's mood. Suspiciously, he continued to glower at Rocket. "Needed a demonstration of what? The fact that you've _lost it_?"

He punctuated his question with another kick to Rocket's back.

"Stop kicking me." Rocket said as he braced himself. This was annoying. Sinedd might not be able to hurt him properly, but he was still fighting. And even though Rocket had Sinedd trapped under him for the moment – and how good it did feel to have Sinedd so _helpless_ – that would do him absolutely no good unless he could figure out a way to get Sinedd's clothes off him. One leg was bared from the knee downwards, ankle gently wrapped in an iced-towel, but that was it. Sinedd still had his uniform on, and Rocket wasn't even sure how to get the one-piece like bodysuit off Sinedd and knew he wouldn't be able to do it if Sinedd kept fighting.

What was he supposed to do now? He couldn't just keep sitting on Sinedd. Eventually, it'd get boring. Or it'd be morning, and someone would come in looking for Sinedd.

"I'll stop if you get _off_ me!" Sinedd kicked Rocket again, feeling the jolt run through Rocket's body as his knee made impact halfway up Rocket's spine. His ankle was starting to feel numb from the ice, and every second that Rocket stayed on top was one that Sinedd started to seriously consider trying to make Rocket scream.

People might not come running if he yelled, but if Rocket did? Warren's reaction had proven that Rocket getting injured was a different prospect to Sinedd being injured.

But at the same time, if he fought too hard and hurt Rocket…

He'd get in trouble. Sinedd had been punished enough at the orphanage for hurting more popular kids when he fought back against being picked on. He wasn't idiot enough to be willing to get stuck in that situation again. But he wasn't just going to lie still and let Rocket do whatever he wanted.

His arms were pinned so for now, Sinedd couldn't do more than kick Rocket. But he kicked as hard as he could and took a triumphant delight in watching Rocket flinch then shift his weight to try to keep Sinedd pinned.

"Do you want me to break your other ankle?" The threat slipped out of Rocket's mouth before he was aware of saying it. It was foreign; it was perfect. It was just like in the Sphere, when he spoke without thinking, when he let his subconscious take over and say the things that he'd never let himself think as a Snow Kid.

The threat worked; Sinedd tensed up and stopped kicking, eyes sharp with hate.

_Score: 2,4, Rocket_

"Good." Rocket breathed a sigh of relief, even though the locked-rigid muscles of Sinedd's body made his body seem as if it were sculpted from marble, something inhuman and unreal. To counter that, he dropped his head downwards and traced his tongue almost lovingly along the clean line of Sinedd's jaw. Sinedd tasted like _skin_, clean and cool, like Akillian snow but with something different mixed in that Rocket could only attribute to the Smog. It tasted like the Smog did during matches, when the Shadows disappeared right in front of the Snow Kids and left them in a haze of black – but on Sinedd's skin it was weaker, drowned out by the boy who controlled it.

A nip just under Sinedd's ear, where the jawline blended into the neck, and Rocket relished the feel of Sinedd shuddering (with distaste? With pleasure? Did Rocket even care which it was?) under him.

It was half-time, and Rocket was winning.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Author's Note**: OH MY GOD I AM A DAY LATE I AM SO SORRY. I really am. I was trying something new with having a beta-reader check my characterization, and then I brilliantly forgot to attach the actual document to the e-mail I sent Mitsuko Soma, who had kindly agreed to help me out. And then I sent her the wrong chapter. *dies and apologizes a thousand times over* A few quick reader responses:

Nina: I definitely agree with you that Sinedd's more self-destructive! The screaming in his sleep part was a last minute idea that occurred to me in the form of dialogue – I imagined Rocket saying those lines in his head and I KNEW that it had to happen. XD

The Krett: The parallels between Sinedd and Rocket are kind of amazing. Especially later in Season 2, when Rocket starts acting even more like Sinedd. It's part of why I wanted to write about them – glad I'm turning you into a Sinedd fan! The show cuts him a really raw deal, so Netherworld's partly about showing his point of view.

they killed my turtle: Glad to see you back. XD And Sinedd really doesn't expect much from people. He's a misanthrope in that way, which is why Rocket's behaviour surprises him more because it's not how Rocket usually acts than because Rocket's actually being a bastard. And the Snow Kids totally get better treatment than Rocket does. Did you know the official jetix site calls Sinedd "disturbed"? XD

Lulu the White: *grins* We'll see… And yeah, this sex scene is taking a long time to show up, but that's because Sinedd is fighting so much!

Lios88: Hope that Sinedd's fighting back pleased you :P

Thank you to everyone that reviewed! Signed reviews, I PMed back whenever I could. And I'll have something extra this week up, a one-shot of some sort, in addition to the usual Netherball chapters, to show how sorry I am about the delay. Feedback keeps me writing, but you guys already know that. XD


	10. Half Time

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Galactik Football, I'm making no profit off this story and I don't claim that the events represented in this story are canon. It's just my look at what could have been happening off-screen when Rocket was playing Netherball.

**Summary: **Non-con slash, Rocket x Sinedd, Rocket x Tia, may disturb some readers. Sinedd comes up with a strategy.

_Netherworld: Half Time_

Sinedd had subdued into a sort of seething quiescence, his muscles taut with anger as he lay beneath Rocket. Hatred radiated from him like the Smog, an invisible cloud of fury that hissed out from the pores of his skin and the slits of his eyes. Rocket fancied that he could taste it on his tongue as he bit hungry kisses to Sinedd's throat, the pale column starkly corded with muscle and Sinedd's pulse erratic against Rocket's lips.

"Is this how you do it with Tia too?" Sinedd asked, gathering his resistance together again. He couldn't fight Rocket outright, but he could distract him. Delay him. Play for time so that he could come up with a better plan. "Hold her down, make her take it, stuff a pillow over her face if she screams?"

"No." A one-word answer, Rocket licking at the bite marks he'd just made and burying his nose in the crook of Sinedd's throat and shoulder where the scent of his skin was strongest. Sinedd smelled indisputably _male_, bare skin and the breathable material of the football costumes mingled together, overlaid with sweat and the sharp, acrid Smog. Tia smelled of the first two, but never the last two. She was always showered and clean when she and Rocket made love; she smelled of the soap she liked, something as sharp and invigorating as lemons, like ozone and ice, like the Breath. Not better than Sinedd, but easier. The soap accentuated her natural scent, instead of obscuring it the way that the Smog did for Sinedd.

Rocket blew on Sinedd's skin, as if blowing the Smog away, and felt a terrible, tender urge to tear the Smog out of Sinedd. Tender, because underneath the Smog, Rocket knew that there was an Akillian boy like him; terrible, because the Smog was part of Sinedd now and to take it from him would hurt Sinedd (and Rocket knew that he'd enjoy hurting Sinedd).

With that in mind, Rocket added, "I _love_ her, and she loves me. She always wants me."

Teeth gritted, Sinedd endured Rocket's touch. Rocket had answered his question too calmly, even if he'd been distracted from molesting Sinedd into just cuddling him. Rocket's words were a welcome distraction. It gave Sinedd something to think about other than the heavy weight of Rocket's muscled body on his own. "Yeah? Then why are you here with me?"

"I told you." The words were almost absent-minded as Rocket shifted over Sinedd, sliding a little further up on his chest. His eyes seemed almost glazed over, like toffees sticky and shining wet from being in someone's mouth. "I won."

"Congratulations." The word was bitter in Sinedd's mouth, and he twisted his head to the side to avoid Rocket's attempt to kiss him. "Go celebrate with her. _She_'s your girlfriend."

"Not anymore." Softly though the words were spoken, they were like a death sentence to Sinedd. Rocket used his free hand to undo the clasps on Sinedd's shoulders, guessing correctly that the hidden zippers would be located along the seams, just like they were for the Snow Kid's costume. "I left her behind when I left Galactik Football."

His eyes stayed fixed on the bloodied red of Sinedd's mouth, and the occasional glimpse of white, white teeth that could be seen when Sinedd tried not to cringe. "I only have Netherball now."

A smile that was almost dreamy in its contentment, "And you."

"You _don't_ have me." Sinedd contradicted Rocket, the rush of cool air against his shoulders making him tense as Rocket pushed the top of the uniform off his shoulders. He felt like a stupid schoolgirl whose boyfriend was trying to get her out of her dress while she protested; that thought was responsible for the bite in Sinedd's voice. "I'm not your girlfriend. I don't even _like_ you."

"I know." Rocket smiled, and the way that he didn't seem even slightly disturbed by that made Sinedd's insides clench hard, "But it's better like this."

Games, in the Sphere, were more like fights. Matches were closer to gladiatorial bouts of combat. Of course Sinedd wouldn't be like Tia, spreading her legs with a laugh and eagerly pulling Rocket down for slow, sweet, endless kisses. Sinedd was like Netherball, fierce and dangerous and a fighter to the end.

That was what his mockery was about, after all. Rocket knew that Sinedd didn't actually care whether Rocket was cheating on Tia or not. Sinedd was just trying to find Rocket's weak spots to exploit them. Just like in a Netherball match, where you watched the defenders to see if they favored their left or right side, and then aimed where they were slowest to react.

Rocket didn't begrudge Sinedd his words. They were just words. They had no power over him. And Rocket, while Sinedd talked, could enjoy slowly revealing more of Sinedd's skin. The top was halfway down Sinedd's chest, and his pale nipples fascinated Rocket. They were small compared to Rocket's, positioned above the line of muscle and looked deliciously like cherries on whipped cream. Except not as red. Instead, the circles of the aureoles were a light pink, as if someone had gently dabbed them with strawberry juice and waited for it to dry. The nipples themselves were small, hard nubs of a darker, desaturated pink-grey and Rocket couldn't resist the urge to bring his free hand down to pinch one, trapping it between his index finger and thumb, feeling the ridges of flesh for a moment between pressing down hard.

Sinedd cried out sharply, instinctively trying to press into the mattress, "Don't--" He started to say before he cut himself off. He wouldn't beg. He wouldn't ask for mercy that wouldn't come. But it had_ hurt_ and now, blood was rushing back there, stinging it to the same redness as his mouth.

"Shhhh." As if feeling guilty for what he'd done, Rocket bent his head and with the greatest of care, licked at the small, abused nipple. The soft, wet licks only took only flicks of his tongue, and Rocket enjoyed the springness of the nipple, how he could push it away and then have it press into his tongue. This was almost like Tia, except the presentation was different. With Tia, it was like the nipple was presented for his attention as the cherry on top of a pudding. Sinedd was flat, the pectorals of his body nowhere near as curved as Tia's breasts. Rubies on a marble platter, and the analogy felt right for how cold and unyielding Sinedd was underneath him, even as Sinedd's nipples tightened and the pain began to pass from him.

Having his nipple pinched had hurt Sinedd, but the grotesque salaciousness of Rocket licking at it felt like more of a violation. Rocket wasn't allowed to hurt him and then make it better. It was too close to how Rocket had broken (except not really) his ankle and then bandaged it. Confusing. Not fair -- not that Sinedd played fair, but nobody expected him to, and everyone expected Rocket to play fair…

Sinedd stared at the door determinedly, body as unyielding as if he were carved out of rock, refusing to watch Rocket at work. Maybe if he didn't look, it would be easier to block out the physical proof of Rocket's arousal, the hard length pressing against Sinedd's stomach in a way that would've been uncomfortable if Sinedd had been in any sort of position to care about such trivialities.

Rocket didn't care that Sinedd was ignoring him. He was too busy making sure that Sinedd's other nipple didn't feel left out, taking little nibbled bites at Sinedd's skin every so often just to make sure that his chest tasted as good as his throat had. Smooth skin stretched finely over hard muscles, and Sinedd was so pale that he had no tan lines at all. Growing up in Akillian, people rarely tanned except on the face, where the outline of sunglasses would be paler than the rest of the skin, but Sinedd was equally pale everywhere.

Rocket loved it. The Galactik Cup was without flaws either, as if it had grown organically in that shape instead of being moulded. Netherball's prize was just as good as that of Galactik Football's.

Stoically, Sinedd kept his eyes fixed on the door, blocking out the feel of Rocket's teeth scraping over his skin as his mind raced to come up with a plan. He couldn't risk fighting physically anymore. Rocket hadn't reacted to Sinedd's mention of Tia. Screaming for help wouldn't do any good. He was clearly on the defensive now; he couldn't win, all he could do was try to minimize the damage. He had a match against the Pirates tomorrow. He couldn't play on two broken ankles, or if Rocket tore him up too badly now.

Cool air struck his skin, and Sinedd glanced at Rocket without meaning to, only to see that the other boy was eyeing his wrists and the bedstead thoughtfully. It was easy to guess what Rocket had in mind and in that moment, Sinedd saw his chance.

"You don't have to tie me down." He said quickly, flexing his fingers a little but not making any move to try to break Rocket's hold on his wrists. "I won't try to run." The bitterness of his smile was set off perfectly by the red of Rocket's blood, still smeared on his lips. "You'd catch me if I tried anyway. And if you told everyone I talked you into playing Netherball, and that I've been harbouring you, I might get suspended from the League as well."

For a moment, it looked as if Rocket wouldn't buy it, the expression on his face the focused, judging one he had whenever he was going to take a free kick. He ran his fingers down Sinedd's side, mapping out the taut muscles, the drag of his fingertips nearly ticklish because of how light his touch was. "And how I do know you're not going to fight?"

"Because," Sinedd licked over his lips, tongue darting out in a swipe of brilliant red that cleaned Rocket's blood off his mouth and left his pale lips looking bloodless by contrast. He dropped his voice down low, not breathless but intent, as if he were whispering to Rocket in a crowded room, and the black of his pupils was almost liquid in its darkness. "I want to suck your cock."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Author's Note**: Sorry for the lateness of this chapter! I had a LOT of Xmas stuff to write, and then RL got a little hectic too. Many thanks to Mitsuko Soma, who e-mailed me to check if I was okay, GFChamp who PMed me to ask where the next chapter is, and FemaleSpock, who reviewed old chapters to make sure I didn't forget people were waiting. I'm skipping doing individual reader responses today in favour of getting this chapter up – I figure you've waited long enough. I'm going to try to go back to updating at least once a week again. Hope you like the increased explicitness, and have fun trying to guess what Sinedd is upto!

Thanks for all the reviews. Remember, they're what keep me writing and whenever possible, I reply to them via PM or in here.


	11. Strategy Shift

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Galactik Football, I'm making no profit off this story and I don't claim that the events represented in this story are canon. It's just my look at what could have been happening off-screen when Rocket was playing Netherball.

**Summary:** Sinedd makes an offer Rocket just can't refuse. Or can he? Wheels within wheels and Sinedd's not ready to surrender. Non-con, psychological deterioration, slash, Rocket x Sinedd, Rocket x Tia. Happy Birthday, FemaleSpock! Got this chapter up just for you.

_Netherworld: Strategy Shift_

_'What?' _Rocket tried to say. His mouth was open. His breath drifted over his tongue, hot on his own wounded lips. No sound came out. He looked down at Sinedd, at the pale thin lips, and felt a jolt of arousal strike him. It had as much to do with the image of Sinedd's mouth wrapped around his dick as it did with the idea of such subservience coming from Sinedd. He pressed his free hand to his crotch, feeling the hard outline of his cock, and forced himself to speak, "_What?_"

" I said," And Sinedd smiled slowly, "I want. To. Suck. Your. Cock." Each word was emphasized, and Sinedd dropped his gaze down meaningfully to where Rocket's hand hid the proof o h is desire. Sinedd's smile was vicious, far too mocking for someone who was trapped on his back and nude from the waist up. The power had shifted to him, and Rocket didn't know why, but Rocket wanted it back.

"Why?" Rocket couldn't take the power back yet. He needed to know why Sinedd was offering. He had to get at the plan behind the shift in Sinedd's tactics.

"Why not?" Low-voiced, lower than usual, Sinedd clearly controlling his tone to make it sexier. "Come on. You've got me on my back. Helpless. Alone. You're going to fuck me whether I want it or not." A shrug, or as much of a shrug that he could manage while he was still trapped against the best, "Might as well give in and _enjoy _it."

Rocket's stomach turned, though he couldn't tell with disbelief or disgust. Or something less predictable. "You _like_ -- doing that?"

"Yeah. I like it a lot. What's the matter, Rocket -- Tia doesn't do it for you?" The glitter in Sinedd's eyes, the arch of his shoulders and display of his body -- it made Rocket think of a parody of bad porn, right down to the low, seductive voice that was just not Sinedd. Rocket couldn't answer Sinedd's question. He knew that he had told Sinedd not to talk about Tia, and he knew that he should punish Sinedd for disobeying him, but most of all, he knew that this wasn't going the way he wanted it to go. It wasn't going _right_.

Sinedd kept talking, "Guess not. Daughter of the Ambassadors can't get her mouth dirty like that, but see, I'm different. I don't have to like you to want to suck your cock. All I have to do is think that it's been too long since I've been laid." Sharp eyes, and sharper words, and what Sinedd was saying was so wrong that Rocket couldn't even find the resolve to hit him and shut him up. He felt frozen, as if their roles had been reversed and he was the one trapped now. "You're nothing special, Rocket. You're just another guy on my loooong list."

Another lick to his lips and Sinedd continued, improvising desperately, blending lies with truth to hone his sentences for the maximum damage, "Do you want me to list off everyone I've been with? Tell you how much practice I've had to get good at it? Do you want to think about them and their faces when you come in my mouth? I'm not Tia. I don't like you. I'm not some blushing virgin who's terrified of you and your cock. You're just another set of body parts, no different from Artegor or Nilla or Stevens or Aarch--"

It was hearing his uncle's name that snapped Rocket out of it. He brought his hand down over Sinedd's mouth and leaned in until they were forehead to forehead, as close as they could get without kissing, "You're lying, Sinedd. And I don't want your lying mouth anywhere near my cock." The edge of triumph was gone from Rocket's mouth now, to be replaced by grimness. "You're probably just trying to get a chance to bite it anyway."

The momentary flash of frustration in Sinedd's eyes let Rocket know that he'd been on the right track with his suspicions. He laughed, and felt himself start to recover the ground that he'd lost as he deliberately rocked his hips downwards against Sinedd's thighs. "That was it? Your master plan? Your coach can't come up with a good game plan to save his life, and neither can you."

As revenge, Sinedd bit the inside of Rocket's hand, giving up on even the façade of cooperation. Rocket had been expecting that move from Sinedd and wasn't discouraged, even as Sinedd's glare returned, the anger now dark in his eyes again. Rocket shook his head, and undid the snaps at Sinedd's waist. He dragged the top off the other boy, and wrapped it around his wrists, coiling it as securely as he would if he were tying a bouquet before he looped it through the bedframe and knotted it. The uniform was sweat-resistant, flexible, and made of highly durable material. Sinedd wouldn't be able to escape it and judging from his sullen glower and pointed tenseness, he wasn't going to even try fighting physically anymore.

_Good. _

Sinedd felt Rocket's hands skim down his sides and start to slide down his shorts, as well as the briefs he wore under them. Disgust chilled his skin wherever Rocket touched him, and Sinedd closed his eyes, searching for another way to save himself.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Author's Note: Whoo hoo, I seem to be back to updating more rapidly! Fic is definitely getting seriously dark. I owe some of you replies, so I'll be doing those as soon as I upload this – I wanted to try to get it up before FemaleSpock's birthday ended (it's today, so wish her a happy birthday!).

Many thanks to everyone that reviewed and encouraged me. I'm really rather nervous about how crazily dark this story is getting, so knowing that you guys are enjoying it keeps me writing. XD

**Author's Note**:


	12. Morning After

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Galactik Football, I'm making no profit off this story and I don't claim that the events represented in this story are canon. It's just my look at what could have been happening off-screen when Rocket was playing Netherball.

**Summary: **Rocket wakes up alone and realizes what happened last night. It shocks him into some semblance of sanity. Sinedd's got his own life to lead and won't let Rocket ruin it. For the chapter of GF that comes BEFORE this, that's too explicit to be posted on , please check my author profile. Rocket x Sinedd, Rocket x Tia, slash, het, dark.

_Netherworld: Morning After_

His back hurt. That was Rocket's first thought upon waking up. His back hurt, his shoulder ached, his side was sore, his head was pounding, the bed was hard, and there was a heavy weight on his stomach. Groggily, he opened an eye to see if he'd kicked the blankets off in his sleep.

His eyes met with a blank expanse of white. Looking up, he saw blue-white tiles and a sink where the whiteness abruptly stopped. Piecing the clues together, Rocket deduced that he was in the bathroom. In the bathtub. Not his bed.

_Why?_

Rocket couldn't remember getting into the bathtub, yet he must've, because otherwise why would he there? The weight on his stomach was getting annoying, so he risked turning his head to try to see what it was – his duffle bag? Even stranger. Why would he fall asleep in a bathtub with his duffle bag? More white on the duffle bag. His fingers fumbled at it and suddenly, Sinedd's voice sounded.

"Get out by noon or I'm having Artegor throw you out."

It was a recorded message; Sinedd's voice was so steady that Rocket knew instantly that Sinedd must have tried recording that single sentence multiple times until he was satisfied by it. There was no way that Sinedd could've addressed him so calmly otherwise, after he—

After he—

Realization hit him hard in the stomach, like the Breath in reverse, like the Breath turned against him. He didn't even manage to make it out of the bathtub before he was puking, throwing up his guilt and his memories.

Sinedd's eyes, so large and so black, helpless fury and resignation intertwined. The feel of hard, taut muscle gripped tight in his hands, the anger that made Sinedd so tight around him and so irresistible—

"No!" He croaked, throat sore with acid and bile. He said the word to himself, telling himself that he hadn't … done what he did. He hadn't broken Sinedd's ankle. Hadn't wrapped it up, hadn't held him down, hadn't – hadn't raped him.

Raped. Rape.

It was an ugly word for an ugly act and Rocket, for the first time since he'd stepped into the Sphere, felt fear.

It ate through him, sizzling at his stomach, making him throw up again and again, until he was dry-retching over the side of the tub and unable to even breathe without tasting the sourness of self-hatred.

Snow Kids Captain. Netherball Champion. Rapist. Rapist.

No matter what else Rocket did, no matter what he achieved, what would define would be what he'd done last night with Sinedd (done _to_ Sinedd). It was burnt into his skin; his hands held the imprint of Sinedd's muscles against his palm, his lips were pale with the pressure of Sinedd's mouth. No Flux was evil in itself. Even the Smog only hurt the outsiders, the strangers who came and tried to use it even though they weren't the Shadows who had grown up on the Archipelago. The Flux could be used for evil ends and that was why the Flux Society existed.

It was the smallest of all mercies that Rocket hadn't used the Breath last night to batter Sinedd further. The asymmetry of that, after he'd saved Tia, would have been unbearable.

This was close to unbearable. It felt like it could kill him. He'd raped Sinedd. Sinedd! The guy who'd taken him in and introduced him to the Sphere. If it weren't for Sinedd, he'd have had to go back to Akillian with his tail between his legs. He owed Sinedd --

_Nothing._

He owed Sinedd nothing.

_Sinedd had wanted a Netherball champion, hadn't he? He'd gotten one. And if he'd been stupid enough to challenge the champion he'd found, well, he deserved what he got. _

The thought rose in his mind the way that Rocket thought the Smog worked; insidious and sudden, a smoke-haze of smug satisfaction and self-confidence. The foreignness of it made him try to throw up again, his throat sore as he leaned over the side of the bathtub and coughed helplessly over the bathmat. He didn't think like that. That wasn't him. Sinedd was a pain in the ass, an arrogant jerk, but he'd been a Snow Kid once (before he'd ditched them to go on to what he thought was the better team and it served Sinedd right that the Shadows were consistently beaten by the Snow Kids) and nobody deserved to be – to be treated like that.

Rocket's mind shied away from the word 'rape'. He knew what he'd done. That didn't mean he had to wallow in it. He'd just… get away from here. Yeah. He'd take the duffle bag with whatever it contained of his belongings and get the hell out of here. Find a different hotel.

…And then what?

He couldn't go back to Netherball. Not with Sinedd there. Or would Sinedd quit first? Sinedd still had Galactik Football. Rocket didn't. Rocket needed Netherball more than Sinedd did and the thought of quitting Netherball sent screaming stabs of fear through Rocket, worse than when he'd realized what he'd done. Raping Sinedd was wrong. Quitting Netherball was unthinkable.

Part of Rocket knew that was wrong. Sinedd was a person. Netherball was a game. Sinedd should matter _more_.

What should matter and what shouldn't matter weren't important. The memories of raping Sinedd (squirming, fighting, dead-eyed and finally still) weren't as terrifying as the thought of never playing Netherball again. Netherball was a part of him, as much as playing Galactik Football had been. Whatever he'd lost of himself when he'd held Sinedd down and forced his way in, losing Netherball would be worse.

He still didn't know why he'd done it. He wasn't willing to think about it in enough detail to figure it out.

(It was just a stupid thing. The sort of thing that one did while drunk. But Rocket hadn't been drunk and he had no excuse for how good it had felt. Not just the sex (rape) but the control he'd had. How Sinedd hadn't been able to fight free in the end. How Sinedd had had to give up in the end. Having Sinedd that vulnerable had been better than the sex itself.)

Just thinking about that made him feel sick again.

He stumbled up to his feet, grabbing the side of the tub to steady himself and then managed to lean groggily over the sink. Rocket splashed his mouth out with water, then with disinfectant. He had to gargle to get the taste of vomit out of the back of his mouth and when he was done with that, the minty taste of peppermint had replaced the sourness of thick chunks of bile. Rocket rinsed out his mouth with water again and grabbed the duffle bag. Yellow-green vomit puddle thickly on the tiled floor but the maid service would have to take care of that. He wasn't going to stick around longer than he had to. Not if it meant running into Sinedd again.

* * *

"You want to play while injured?" The disapproval in Artegor's tone wasn't unmixed with interest, pride in Sinedd's toughness warring with the knowledge of how badly a player could damage himself by pushing himself while hurt.

"Yeah." Sinedd's shrug was sullen, the boy not meeting Artegor's eyes as he tested out the flexibandage wrapped around his ankle. It was as hard as a cast, wrapped over his foot and ankle both. It'd help his leg heal quickly and with the shots against the pain, Sinedd considered himself fit to play. Sitting on the sidelines wouldn't do him any good.

"Sinedd. I can't let you play when I don't even know what happened to you." Artegor wasn't used to being gentle. Making his voice softer, putting his hand on Sinedd's shoulder, neither of those came naturally to him but the direct approach wasn't working so he tried a shift in tactics, just as he would've on the field. He'd been trying to pry out how Sinedd had got injured for half an hour already and the kid had stonewalled all the way.

"You sound like Aarch." Was the only response Artegor got for his troubles, along with a sneer and the elaboration, "I told you already. I fell down the stairs."

Sinedd's orphanage report was full of injuries related to 'falling down the stairs'. Like hell did anyone with Sinedd's reflexes and sense of balance constantly fall down stairs. Artegor knew that Sinedd was lying but he also knew that Sinedd wasn't going to tell the truth, no matter how much he pushed. But the fact that Sinedd was lying was reason enough in itself to need to keep pushing. If Sinedd felt that he had to lie about what happened, that meant that whatever had gotten Sinedd injured was potentially dangerous to Sinedd still. A bookie who was trying to get Sinedd to throw matches? A dealer of some sort? Artegor knew that Sinedd had been involved in some shady business back on Akilian, theft and other petty crimes but surely he'd stopped that when he became a Galactik Football player. He earned more than enough money now to satisfy himself, right?

(Orphanage kid, Artegor remembered, and thought about the hunger he'd seen in Sinedd's eyes the first time they'd met out in the snow. Enough would never be enough for Sinedd. He knew how fast everything could be lost. The only solution was to have so much that any loss would be acceptable because you had more stored up.)

Artegor's hands tightened their grip on Sinedd's shoulders; Sinedd's flinch gave away that Artegor had hit bruises under the Shadows uniform, that there were more injuries than Artegor had seen. "What the--"

Artegor yanked at the neckline of the top, only to have Sinedd scramble away panickedly, like a Wambasian crab. "Don't_ touch_ me!"

His voice was high and shrill with fear for a moment, cracking in a way that reminded Artegor that Sinedd was still a teenager despite his hard attitude. The two of them stared at each other for a moment, man and boy, coach and player, and Artegor could see that if it weren't for the injured foot and Sinedd's genuine desire to play, Sinedd would've bolted out the door the moment Artegor tried to strip him.

Artegor still didn't guess it. Not yet.

Later, he'd curse himself for a fool.

Now, though, he held out both hands, palms up, as if to show that he had no weapons in them. "Sinedd. You've got other injuries. Why aren't you letting me see them?"

The Shadows, for the most part, had their own doctor to tend to them. Sinedd was human and so it was Artegor and a med-bot that were tasked with dealing any injuries Sinedd might accrue. And the med-bot on its own was no good. Artegor had to be the one to chart Sinedd's injuries and their progress. If Sinedd withheld information on him, Artegor couldn't properly determine how to use him in matches, and Sinedd knew that. Sinedd might want to lie about where he got his injuries from, but there wasn't any reason why Sinedd should lie about _what_ injuries he had.

"They're not important. Only my ankle could've stopped me from playing. And now it's fixed so you've got no reason to stop me from playing the Pirates." The scowl was there in Sinedd's voice, but not his face, not his eyes. The deep violet of his gaze remained watchful; Sinedd's eyes had never looked so bruised to Artegor.

"If I don't know what you're hiding, I don't know if you're fit to play or not." Artegor kept his voice as level as he could but a bit of bite crept into it anyway, despite his determination to be gentle with Sinedd.

It didn't, he was relieved to see, seem to affect Sinedd negatively. No matter how injured Sinedd was, he reacted better to bluntness than feigned affection.

"I know what's wrong with me and I know I can play." Sinedd's statement was an open challenge to Artegor's authority. If Artegor let Sinedd get away with it once, Sinedd would never feel he had to report any injuries to him again unless they were as severe as the broken ankle.

It was a miscalculation on Sinedd's part and he quickly realized it, trying to save himself by adding, "Besides, it's the Pirates. They don't even have a Flux! Like I need to be in top condition to beat them."

Sinedd rarely smiled, but he did smirk. Now, though, the smirk looked forced but Artegor appreciated the sentiment behind it. Aarch would've given Sinedd a speech about teamwork, about how Sinedd wouldn't beat the Pirates but the Shadows as a group would. Artegor wasn't Aarch. Aarch's moralizing was part of why Sinedd had left. And Sinedd was Artegor's favorite, as much as Rocket was Aarch's favorite. Coaches might not be meant to have favorites but they always did. Artegor saw enough of himself in Sinedd that for all the boy's stubbornness and sulking and secrecy (and weren't those traits that Artegor himself still had?), Artegor still couldn't help but feel closest to Sinedd of all the players on the Shadows team.

It didn't hurt, either, that Sinedd was the only human on the team.

Any other player, Artegor would've benched, as much for the insolence as out of genuine concern for how they could destroy their career. Sinedd brought out a mixture of exasperation and recognition that made Artegor glare at him from behind his sunglasses but concede, "Fine. You're playing in the match today but only as a trial. If you can't handle the Pirates, then I'm benching you until you're better."

Sinedd's smirk was almost believable this time. Almost. "Sure."

Just to make sure that Sinedd understood that he wasn't getting things all his way, Artegor added pointedly, "And after the match, you're going to get a full check up. The only reason I'm not making you get one now is that you don't have time before the match starts."

The smirk disappeared and Sinedd's nod was grudging in the extreme, "Yeah. Sure."

He had no intention of getting a full check up after the match. Even sitting down to get his ankle bound had hurt him. If Artegor discovered that type of damage…

Sinedd's teeth gnawed at his lip, the sensitive flesh not being given a chance to heal with how often Sinedd bit down on it. "Can I go now?"

Blood beaded up on Sinedd's lip and Artegor sighed, grabbing a disinfectant wipe and holding it out to Sinedd, "Fix your mouth first."

A quick swipe of the cloth over his lower lip took care of the blood and then Sinedd was gone, hobbling away as fast as he could. His gait was off, Artegor noted, more than the broken ankle could account for. Artegor was tempted to call him back, but he'd promised to let Sinedd play in the match and there wasn't time to check him over and still have him play.

He'd look into it after the match, Artegor promised himself, not knowing that he'd have much bigger problems then than one limping human player.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Author's Note**: I am so, so sorry that this chapter took so long! I started writing it, then I accidentally lost most of it when the computer crashed and that just killed my motivation to keep going. Major thanks to FemaleSpock & GF Sistah for not letting me get out of the fandom or give up on this fic. Thank you, also, to everyone that reviewed the last chapter or the secret 'hidden' chapter that contains the actual rape scene. I promise that the next chapter won't take so long to get out!

If you're having trouble finding the missing chapter of Netherworld, just let me know in a review (leave your e-mail address!) and I'll send it to you. I'm not replying to reviews individually this time, because I'd have to do it for two chapters if I did so and I wanted to get this chapter up as fast as possible to make up for keeping you all waiting.

Here's hoping you guys haven't lost interest in this fic just because it took me so long to update. ^_~ I'm going to try to get back to once-weekly updates so I won't have to keep you waiting.


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